Souls United
by FaithinBones
Summary: This story is the sequel to "Soul Mates" and is AU. I highly recommend that you read that story before you read this one.
1. Chapter 1

(After "The Beginning in the End")

A/N: This is a sequel to "Soul Mates." This story is AU and Hannah Burley will not be making an appearance in this story. No trips to Maluku and no trips to Afghanistan.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Her child firmly in her arms, Brennan complained, "I have to go to work, but I really don't see how I can leave her Booth. I mean we're placing the welfare of our daughter into the hands of people we don't know. They're strangers."

Carrying the baby car seat/ carrier over to the front door, Booth stopped and tried to assure her, "Bones believe me I've investigated everyone at that day care center. They're all very professional, none of them have criminal records and they all pay their taxes on time. I don't know what else we can do. Christine will be fine. Those people are really good at their jobs. They have a really good reputation and well, they work for the Jeffersonian. I'm pretty sure Christine will be safe."

Not assured at all, Brennan hugged her baby and pointed out to Booth, "You didn't mention their past employment history, did you check that too?"

His patience starting to wear thin, Booth retorted, "Bones, for God's sake, yes I checked. Everyone working there is a Saint . . . . By the way, don't tell anyone I did all that. I could get into a lot of trouble. I mean I can lose my job kind of trouble."

Her gaze now turned towards her husband, Brennan protested, "I know that, I won't tell anyone, Booth."

Mollified, he lifted the carrier and opened the front door, "Come on Bones, let's boogy, we're going to be late for work. If you keep dragging your heels I'm going to carry you over my shoulder and throw you in the car and how will that look to the neighbors?"

Reluctantly carrying her child towards the front door, Brennan grabbed her purse from the couch, "You wouldn't dare . . . I'm just trying to be careful, Booth. I don't want anything to happen to our baby."

Aware that her fears were real, he placed his hand on her waist when she stopped at the door staring at him with her glistening eyes, "Bones, you're a great Mom and I love you for it. Don't worry about the day care. We left Christine there during the trial and everything was okay. She'll be okay now. You're just suffering from what cha call it . . . um . . . separation anxiety."

Glaring at Booth, Brennan shook her head, "I don't believe in psychology. It's just made up nonsense."

Amused at her annoyance, Booth kissed her, "Come on Bones. You can fuss at me in the car. If we don't leave now we're both going to be late for work and how will that look on your first day back at work, huh?"

Exiting the house, Brennan carefully negotiated the steps as Booth stayed in front of her to help her down to the sidewalk below. "Make sure you keep both hands on the wheel, Booth when you're driving and keep your eyes on the road and not on me."

Booth hurried to the truck and opened the back passenger door and after strapping in the car seat, he turned and waited for Brennan to hand him their child.

"Booth, maybe I should stay home one more day." Watching her husband secure their baby in the car seat, Brennan felt a little uneasy.

Making sure the baby was secure, Booth finally turned and pulled Brennan into an embrace, "She's going to be fine. You're going to be fine. I promise. We'll visit her at lunch time and you'll see she's fine then. Just give it a chance, will you? . . . Just remember that they took good care of her during the trial and they'll take good care of her now." Kissing her, Booth deepened the kiss until they both started to feel lightheaded.

Breaking from the kiss, Brennan smiled, "I know what you're doing."

Booth ran around the truck and entered the driver's side of the truck. Turning towards his wife, who was now thankfully in the truck with him, he laughed, "Good."

Ooooooooooooooooo

Sad that she wouldn't be able to see her baby for a few hours, Brennan entered the Lab with a feeling of foreboding. Passing Angela's office, Brennan felt someone crash into her, encircling her in their arms, "Sweetie, it's so good to see you back."

Allowing Angela to hug her for a few minutes, Brennan finally broke away and smiled, "You just saw me three days ago."

Shrugging her shoulders, Angela frowned, "That was at your house. This is different. We've really missed you at work, Honey. It's just not the same here without you."

"I missed you too Angela, in a working environment not at home since I've actually seen you at least three times a week during my maternity leave." Glancing at the platform, Brennan noticed Hodgins waving at her. Returning the gesture, Brennan started to walk towards her office.

Keeping in step with her friend, Angela asked her, "So . . . how does it feel to be back?"

Not sure she was ready to be at work, Brennan entered her office, placed her purse on her desk top and sat down, "I fear that I'm not ready yet. I had a hard time leaving my baby at the Day Care. Booth threatened to throw me over his shoulder and carry me to the truck when I hesitated to leave the house this morning."

Her eyebrows shooting up, Angela laughed, "Ooh that would have been interesting."

Snorting, Brennan shook her head, "It wouldn't have been very dignified. He is the head of Major Crimes for the FBI and I am the leading forensics anthropologist in the world."

Amused, Angela sat down, "Yeah, but it would have been really hot."

Irritated, Brennan protested, "He has a bad back. He would have risked injury carrying me that far to his truck."

Shaking her head slowly, Angela felt a little dreamy, "I don't think so, Bren." Fanning her hand quickly in front of her face, the artist laughed, "Okay, well, welcome back." Standing, Angela beamed, "It's been so boring around here. Everyone will be happy to get back to business. Maybe we'll get lucky and someone will find a gross body and they'll need us to find out who it is. We really need a nice juicy murder to buck up everyone's spirits around here."

Watching her friend leave, Brennan settled at her desk and stared at her PC. After a few minutes of internal debate she called Booth.

"Booth."

Uncertain why she was calling him since she'd seen him twenty minutes ago, Brennan spoke, "Would you like to drop by my office this morning?"

Looking over a forensic report, Booth rubbed the scar on his head, under his hair, "I wish I could Bones. Cullen wants me in a meeting at nine. I probably won't be out until lunch time. Is it something important? If it is I can try to rearrange the meeting. He'll understand."

Disappointed, Brennan explained, "No, that won't be necessary. I . . . I just wanted to see you that's all. I . . . I miss you and the baby."

Placing his report down, Booth smiled, "That's sweet, Bones. I want to see you too. We'll see each other at lunch. We'll see Christine then too. Don't worry Bones. You'll get used to being back at work. Just give it a few days. You'll see. Maybe we'll get lucky and someone will find a disgusting body and we'll have to go look at it. That will get you back in the game."

Amused that Booth had used the same reference that Angela had, Brennan smiled, "That would be good. . . . I love you Booth."

"I love you too, Bones. Bye." Ending the call, Booth placed his phone down and picked his report back up. Reading the same paragraph three times, Booth dropped the report on his desk, picked up his phone and started to scroll through his pictures.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

That evening, Brennan was feeding their baby while Booth set the table for their dinner. Hearing a knock on the front door, Booth hurried into the living room and opened it. Surprised, Booth stared at his ex, "Rebecca, what brings you here? Where's Parker? I thought you were going to stay in England until July."

Looking back at the taxi, Rebecca pointed with her chin, "He's in the taxi. I need to talk to you, Seeley. It's really important."

"Okay," Glancing at the cab, Booth leaned against the door frame, "When did you get back from England? Why didn't you call me?"

Hesitant, she licked her lips and explained, "Look, I had to bring Parker back to the States. I've been receiving some threats and three days ago, someone tried to kidnap me in front of Parker's school."

Startled at the news, Booth stepped forward and peered at his son who was leaning out of the open window of the cab. "Is he all right? Are you alright?"

Sad and a little afraid, Rebecca placed her hands on Booth's arms to try to keep him from moving down the steps, "Yes, we're both fine. I was standing in front of his school waiting for his class to get out and someone grabbed me and tried to haul me over to a waiting car. I put up a fight and yelled out for help. Fortunately two teachers were standing nearby and they grabbed me and pulled me away from the man. Parker saw what was going on and he ran over to where we were struggling and he got knocked down. He wasn't hurt, but he is scared. I can't leave him in London because I don't know what's happening and why someone tried to kidnap me. Scotland Yard said it was okay to bring him back home, but they expect me to come back as soon as possible. I . . . I need to know if Parker can stay with you for a while. I'd like him to finish school here for this semester and stay the summer with you. The detective at Scotland Yard said they're trying to track down leads, but I just don't want Parker over there right now. If he can stay with you, I know you'll make sure he's safe. Maybe once this all over he can come back to England, when the new school year starts."

Stunned at the news, Booth nodded his head, "Of course Parker can stay with us, Rebecca. Of course he can. He can stay as long as you need him to. Should you go back? I mean maybe you should stay here too. I don't like the idea of you being in danger and being alone over there."

Relieved, Rebecca frowned, "I have too many responsibilities right now. I have two major cases I'm working on and I have to be there to see them through. I just need to make sure that Parker is safe." Smiling she turned and waved at the taxi. Parker, opening the door, ran to the steps and then up them to his father's side, "Dad!"

Hugging his son, Booth leaned down and kissed the boy's cheek, "Parker, you can stay as long as you need to."

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This is just a continuation of "Soul Mates". Let me know if you are interested in this sequel. Thanks.


	2. Chapter 2

(After the Beginning in the End)

Thank you for your continued interest in my story. I really appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooo

Watching Brennan get ready for bed, Booth broke the silence, "Bones, I'm sorry I didn't talk to you first, but I don't see where I had a choice. Rebecca is really afraid and I can't let Parker be put in another dangerous situation. You know she's been over there for ten months working on those two big corporate law cases for her firm. She didn't think she could turn it down, but now I wish I had talked her into leaving Parker here. Well . . . that's water under the bridge now."

Puzzled, Brennan turned towards Booth, "Of course you have to let him stay with us, Booth."

Confused, Booth shook his head, "Why are you giving me the silent treatment then? I thought you were mad at me."

Returning back to dresser, she pulled out a pair of pajamas and replied, "I'm thinking Booth. One of us has to take Parker to his former school and get him enrolled for the rest of the semester. Since he's been in another school system, he may have to do some testing before they'll assign him to a classroom. I think you should let me take care of that. We don't have a case right now, but I know you have those evaluations to do. You can drop Christine off to Day Care and that means I'll be free to stay at the school as long as I need to. I think we should make sure that he's comfortable with the way his bedroom is decorated too. He's getting older and he may not like the sheets and comforter we have in his room . . ."

Embarrassed that he'd doubted her, Booth stepped over to where she was standing, placed his arms around her and kissed her, "You know what, Bones? You're amazing. Anyone else might be upset but you . . . You're just wonderful. I love you so much Bones. I really do."

Returning his kiss, Brennan smiled, "I am pretty amazing."

Booth released her and laughed as she entered the bathroom, "Need any help scrubbing your back? I wouldn't want you to miss any spots on your back."

A gleam in her eyes, Brennan raked her gaze up and down his body, her attention lingering on his hands, "Well, now that you mention it."

Ooooooooooooooooo

Buckling Christine in to her car seat, Booth picked up her little hand and kissed it, "Mommy is busy today, so it's just you and me Sweetheart."

Her eyes trained on his face, Booth chuckled, "Daddy loves you, Christine." Releasing her hand, Booth stepped away from the truck to close the door and bumped into his son. Leaving the truck door open, Booth moved a step to the side to keep from knocking his son down, "Parker, whoa, Buddy, I didn't see you there."

Embarrassed, Parker stepped back a few paces, glanced at his little sister and then back at his father, "I'm sorry, Dad. I just wanted to say good-bye."

Smiling, Booth wrapped his arms around his son's shoulders and hugged him, "I hope you like it here, Parker." Kissing his golden curls, Booth straightened up and moved his hands to the top of his son's shoulders, "Now remember, Parker. The only one that can pick you up from school is me and Bones. If someone else shows up and I mean even someone you know, they have to have the safe word or you can't go with them."

Nervously, Parker felt his mouth turn dry, "Do you think someone might grab me here, Dad? Mom thinks someone is after her not me."

Worried but careful not to let him see it, Booth squeezed the boy's shoulders lightly, "I don't know, Buddy. Your Mom is involved in a couple of high profile cases in London. Scotland Yard is looking into it, but we really don't know why someone would try to kidnap her. I'd rather we all be safe and that means safe words. Make sure you don't approach cars or trucks you don't know and don't talk to strangers under any circumstances. Try not to be alone anywhere until we get this all straightened out. I'm not trying to scare you, but I need to know you're safe and you have to do your part. Okay Buddy?"

Nodding his head, Parker stepped closer to his father and placed his arms around his waist, "I'm scared Dad."

His knees stiff, Booth knelt and hugged his son tightly, "I am too Parker, but we're going to get through this I promise. Scotland yard will figure out what's going on and then we'll be back to normal."

Stepping out of the house, Brennan noticed Parker and Booth holding each other. Waiting for Booth to move away from Parker, she worried that both of them were under too much stress.

Booth finally stood up and looked at her. Patting his son's shoulder, Booth smiled at his wife, "Remember Parker, you can count on Bones and me. We'll get you through this. We love you and we'll protect you."

Her smile reflecting her husband's, Brennan walked over and placed her hand on her step-son's back, "It's time to go, Parker. We need to be at the school in thirty minutes." Patting his back, Brennan assured him, "I'm going to stay with you until we get you into classes this morning and I will pick you up after school."

Nodding his head in understanding, Parker ran to Brennan's car, opened the passenger door and stepped into the car.

Glumly, Booth watched the boy until he was in the car and finally turned towards Brennan, leaned down and kissed her, "If you need me, call me. Doesn't matter what its about, just call me."

"I will, Booth. Don't worry so much. We're aware of the possible dangers and we're prepared." Kissing him, Brennan walked rapidly to her car and got in. Waving at her husband, she started her car and pulled out of the driveway.

Watching them leave, Booth then leaned back into the truck and smiled at his daughter, "Hey Sweetheart, you okay?" Checking to make sure the seat was firmly in place he kissed her cheek, "I love you, Baby."

Closing the back passenger door, Booth moved to the driver's side door. Stepping into the truck, Booth buckled up and then looked back at his daughter. "I'm only wearing the seat belt for you, Sweetheart." Grinning, Booth started the truck and pulled out of the driveway.

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Stirring sugar in to his coffee, Booth watched as Brennan sip her coffee, "I talked to Rebecca this morning. She's got a flight leaving in an hour. She said she'll call me once she gets to London. I hope Scotland Yard can figure out what's going on. I don't like her over there like that. If she gets hurt or worse . . . Parker needs his mother."

"Can't she just stay in the States?" Placing her cup down, Brennan watched Booth pick up his cup.

"Her law firm is involved in two class action law suits against two different companies based in London, but doing business here. She said that she's been working on those cases for fifteen months and she needs to be there to help the attorney handling the case in court." Sipping his coffee, Booth watched a couple enter the Diner. "I should have talked to her about leaving Parker here before she took off for London but I was recovering from brain surgery and then he was over there in school and I thought it was too late to bring him back. Both of those cases are supposed to be over by July so I just let it go. Now my boy has been put into danger and . . ."

Moving her hand across the table, Brennan brushed his hand, "Booth, you didn't do anything wrong. Rebecca didn't do anything wrong. Whatever is happening may not have anything to do with those trials. The attempted kidnapping may have just been an opportunistic crime. Rebecca is a beautiful woman and maybe she drew attention. I'm sure she'll be careful, but Parker is safer here. We'll make sure of that."

Her words giving him a sense of comfort, Booth reached for Brennan's hand, "We still have a wedding to plan and we will, Bones. The upside to all of this is we can involve Parker in the wedding from the start. I'm thinking of making him my best man, what do you think?"

Smiling, Brennan responded, "That's a wonderful plan."

His love for her stronger than ever, Booth kissed her hand and commented, "I have a few good ideas once in a while."

Laughing, Brennan watched him kiss her hand again, "Yes you do."

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Reviews would be great. Thank you.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for your kind reviews. I appreciate them all. They keep me writing.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooo

"So you have three weeks of school left and then summer break?" Placing a plate of spaghetti on the table in front of his son, Booth sat down. Taking a piece of garlic bread from a basket and handing it to him, Booth waited for his son to answer.

Drinking iced tea, Parker finally placed his glass down and wiped his lips on his shirt sleeve, "Yes, sir. Principal Hale says that my tests say I'm where I should be."

Encouraged with that news, Booth smiled, "Good, I was kind of worried about that. That's good." Patting his son's shoulder, Booth picked up his fork, "Did you run into any of your friends at school?"

Pleased that some of his friends were still going to his old school, Parker informed his father, "Tommy Wheeler is in my class and so is Penny Paulson."

"Good, if you want them to come over to play, just let me and Bones know. This is your house too." Smiling at Brennan, Booth complimented her, "Hey the sauce is pretty good. You added extra garlic didn't you?"

Swallowing her bite of pasta, Brennan answered, "I remembered how you liked it the last time I made it that way."

Winking at her, Booth responded, "Thanks, you can never have too much garlic as far as I'm concerned."

Amused, Brennan corrected him, "You most definitely can have too much garlic, Booth."

Laughing, Booth shook his head, "I'll brush my teeth after we eat. Problem taken care of."

Shaking her head, Brennan chuckled, "You're incorrigible."

Oooooooooooooo

Groaning, Booth opened his eyes and stared at the baby monitor. Moving slowly, he sat up and yawned, "Damn."

The sound of her child crying waking her, Brennan turned over and tried to open her eyes, "I'll go."

Reaching over and rubbing her back, Booth yawned again, "No, that's okay, I'm up." Moving off of the mattress, he stood up and walked across the room, "It would be nice if she'd sleep through the night though." Opening the door, the very tired parent stepped into the hallway, crossed the hall and opened the door leading to Christine's bedroom. The sound of his child's unhappiness barraging him when he entered the room, Booth rapidly walked across the room and scooped his daughter up into his arms, "What's wrong, Sweetheart? You can't be hungry, your mother fed you an hour ago. I swear it was just an hour ago."

Her cries ceasing, Christine whimpered as she cuddled into her father's arms.

Checking her diaper, Booth found it to be dry. "Okay, I don't get it, why are you crying, baby girl?"

Her whimpering stopped, Booth sat on the rocker near the crib, "Okay, this isn't fair. You just want your old man to be awake, is that it?"

Yawning, Booth studied the face of his daughter, "Well, that's okay. Sleep is over rated anyway." Her eyelids fluttering, he smiled when he realized that she was asleep again. Waiting a few minutes just to make sure, he finally stood and placed her back into her bed.

Careful not to make any noise, Booth left the room and reentered his bedroom. Collapsing on the bed, he felt Brennan snuggle closer to him, "She's okay. She just wanted company for a couple of minutes. She's asleep again."

Not responding, Brennan leaned over and kissed her husband. Closing his eyes, Booth soon returned to sleep, happy but tired.

Oooooooooooo

Sipping his coffee, Booth poured cereal in a bowl and then chased it with milk. Placing his coffee cup down, he picked up his spoon and started to eat. Parker, racing into the kitchen, grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and raced over to the table. Picking up the box of cereal, he poured some in his bowl. The box now empty, the boy peered into the box and frowned, "Gosh that's the last of this cereal."

His eyes on his newspaper, Booth absently pointed towards the cabinets, "More in the cabinet, Buddy."

Shaking his head sadly, Parker informed him, "Not this kind though. This was the last box, I know, I checked yesterday."

"I'll go to the store at lunch time." Pulling an index card and pen out of his pocket, he passed it over to his son, "Write down what you want and I'll consider it when I go to the store."

Writing down several cereal names and snacks, he handed the pen and index card back to his father.

Booth spotted several very sugary snacks as he read the list, "I don't think so Buddy. We're supposed to be trying to eat healthier now. I'll buy fruit."

Disappointed, Parker poured milk over his cereal, "Can't I have one snack, Dad? Mom lets me eat that stuff."

Not wanting to be heavy handed, Booth consented, "Sure. I'll buy one or two of the ones you wrote on the list, but I'm also going to buy fruit."

Curious, Parker picked up his spoon and asked his father, "How come Bones doesn't like our snacks?"

Entering the room with her baby in her arms, Brennan spoke for herself, "Most of the snacks your father buys is full of sugar and salt. He promised to cut down on those because they aren't healthy."

Winking at his son, Booth responded, "She wants me to stick around for awhile. . . She likes me."

Her child resting against her shoulder, Brennan placed two slices of bread in the toaster and smiled, "I've become used to picking up your socks in the bedroom."

Picking up his empty bowl and carrying it over to the sink, he turned and took Christine out of his wife's arms, "I forget to pick them up." Carrying the child over to the table, he sat back down and cradled his daughter in the crook of his arm.

His gaze upon Brennan as she cut up some strawberries and stirred them into some yogurt, Booth rolled his shoulders, "I have a meeting with Hacker this morning and then after that I'm supposed to get together with someone from accounting about something boring. I'll call you and let you know if I can make it to lunch."

Sitting next to Booth, Brennan placed her bowl of yogurt and plate of toast on the table, "Alright."

Finished with his cereal, Parker asked, "Are you guys still getting married in August?"

Glancing at his son and then back at his sleeping daughter, Booth responded, "Sure, want to be my best man?"

Surprised, Parker replied, "Gosh, really? You want me to be your best man?"

Turning his gaze back on his oldest child, Booth smiled, "Of course, I told Bones I wanted the best man for the job and you're the best man I know."

Proud, Parker sat up straighter, "Gosh thanks." Curious, Parker asked him, "If you're already married why get married again?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth answered, "Bones and I got married by a Judge the first time, so that we wouldn't rain on Angela's parade. She was getting married and if we got married in the church it would have detracted from her wedding. We got married quietly so she could have the wedding she deserved. Now we're going to get married in a church and Bones is going to be the center of attention."

Annoyed, Brennan shook her head, "We're going to get married again so we can be married in the church, so your God will recognize that you aren't living in sin."

Rolling his eyes, Booth shook his head, "We're getting married in the church because you deserve a beautiful wedding and you deserve to be fussed over. I love you and I want you to have your day in the sun."

"Booth, I don't need to be married in the church." Stirring her yogurt again, Brennan continued, "This wedding is for you."

Leaning over and kissing her cheek, Booth explained, "Bones, I love you and I want you to have a wedding with family and friends there to see us get married. I want you to have a nice reception and I want to take you some place really nice for a honeymoon. You deserve those things. I love you and I want the world to know it."

Interrupting their bickering, Parker asked, "Won't the wedding be for both of you?"

Booth assured him, "Well, yeah, of course it will be."

Picking up his bowl and carrying it over to the sink, Parker laughed, "You guys are so funny."

Turning to stare at Brennan, Booth shrugged his shoulders.

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I guess not a lot happened in this chapter. This is a good time to remind you that this is one of my quiet stories. Reviews would be appreciated, thanks.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you for the wonderful reviews and favorites. I appreciate them so much.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooo

The day was warm and sunny and Booth was sitting near the coffee cart, drinking a much needed cup of non-governmental issued coffee when unwelcome company arrived in the form of his former commanding officer.

Sitting down next to Booth, Colonel Pelant stated, "Master Sargent, I'd like to talk to you."

Furious, Booth ignored the man and continued to sip his coffee, trying to convey by his silence that he wasn't interested in any conversation he might want to have.

"Look, we really need you in Afghanistan." Irritated that Booth appeared to be ignoring him, the Colonel roughened his voice, "We need men like you, with the experience you have, to train our troops to protect themselves. You're tops in your field and we need you to go over there to save lives."

Placing his hand on his head, Booth leaned his head down and moved his hair to reveal his scar, "You see this? Do you see this scar? I had a brain tumor removed from my brain. It was the size of a damned melon ball. You think that didn't affect me? Do you know about the medicine I had to start taking and that I'm still taking? I suffer from depression and sometimes even the pills don't help. I have seizures once in a while and I have to change medicine to stop it . . . Let me make this as clear as I can, I am not going to sign up. I am not going to leave my family and go overseas. Find someone else because I can't do what you want me to do. I can't and I'm not going to try. Now leave me the fuck alone before I get a restraining order to put against your ass."

Staring at the scar, Pelant shook his head, "Those are just excuses, Master Sargent. We just want a year of your time that's all. One year to get young men trained in a dangerous job, just one year."

"You're unbelievable." Barely able to contain his anger, Booth struggled to keep from striking out and hurting the man, "If I went over there, if I left my family I'd die. I can't go. The only thing that keeps my shit together is my wife and kids and a bunch of damn pills. You isolate me from them and I know what will happen. I'm not a kid anymore. I'm damaged and I'll never be whole again. You may not get that, but I do. Now fuck off. The next time you try to talk me I'll swear out a complaint against you as a damn stalker." Standing Booth glared at his former commanding officer, "You leave me the hell alone, this is your last warning."

Watching Booth stalk away in a towering rage, Pelant shook his head.

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His anger still burning hot, Booth entered his office and slammed his door shut. The few agents sitting in the bullpen area knew that their supervisor was in a rage and whatever had caused it had just made their day very very bad.

Staring at the closed door, Agent Harris sighed and stood up. Pointing at the few agents still at their desks, he advised them, "If you have anything that can get you out of the building, I advise you to go do it . . . now."

Scrambling, the junior agents grabbed phones, jackets and their guns from drawers and left as quickly as possible.

Once the area was empty, Harris strode over to the break room, bought two candy bars and placed them in his jacket pocket. Breathing slowly, he rubbed his forehead and headed towards Booth's office. _This should be fun. I'm going to kill whoever caused this. I swear to God I'm going to track the bastard down and kill him._

Cautiously opening the door, Harris stepped into the room and closed the door softly behind him. Reaching in to his jacket pocket, he pulled out a Butterfinger and once he was standing across from Booth's desk, tossed it on the desktop. Sitting down, he stared at his friend, "What's your problem?"

Debating whether he wanted Harris to stick his nose into his business, Booth started at the candy bar and finally picked it up, "Apparently the Army still wants me. I've been asked to sign up for a year of duty."

Shocked at the idea of Booth back in the Army, Harris shook his head, "Are they out of their fucking minds? I hope you told them no."

Tearing the wrapper covering the candy bar, Booth broke off a piece of the candy and stared at it, "This is the second time I've told them I'm not interested. Colonel Pelant has approached me twice so far and he doesn't want to take no for an answer, the bastard."

Concerned that there was some hidden agenda in play, Harris pulled the Hershey bar from his jacket pocket, tore off the wrapper and broke off a square. Studying it for a few seconds Harris commented, "Seems weird to me that he doesn't want to take no as the answer. I wonder what he's really up to." Popping the square in to his mouth, he watched Booth react.

Surprised, Booth placed the candy bar on the desk and stared at his lieutenant, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you put your time in and you paid a hell of a price serving. Prisoner of war, sniper, the shit you did didn't exactly leave you in a good place." Leaning forward and placing his candy bar on top of the desk, Harris leaned back, "Your service record will show all that . . . . Plus, you had surgery for a brain tumor and you take drugs to keep your wheels on the tracks. You're not exactly a poster child for the Army. He's up to something."

His surprise turning back in to anger, Booth insisted, "I'm not a psycho. I take medicine for depression and seizures, but I'm not a fucking psycho."

Amused, Harris reckoned, "Did I say you were psycho? No, I didn't. I just meant that you're not fit for the Army and they sure as hell should know that. They have to know it and that leads me to believe that something else is going on and I don't like it."

Puzzled, Booth frowned, "Like what? What do you think is going on?"

Rubbing his chin, Harris stared at the display case holding Booth's medals on the wall behind him. "I don't know, but I don't think I like what's going on. It's like they want to get you out of here for some reason. It just seems really fishy to me. They know you have problems but they want you in a war zone. It doesn't make sense."

Not sure if he wanted to go there, Boot laughed, "You're full of crap. Nothing is going on. Colonel Pelant has a bug up his ass and he doesn't want to take no for an answer, that's all. I'm good at what I do. I'm a damn good investigator and you know it."

Picking up his candy bar, Harris stared at the package, "I hope to God you're right, Booth, but I have a funny feeling that something is going on and sooner or later we're going to find out what it is. I have a feeling that we aren't going to like it either."

Not really hungry, Booth pushed the Butterfinger towards the center of his desk, and stared intently at it, "Maybe there is something to this but I haven't got a clue what it is. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I did tell him to stay the hell away from me. If he comes at me again, I'm . . . damn it, I wish I knew what the hell is going on."

Oooooooooooo

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	5. Chapter 5

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I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooo

Rubbing the scar on his head, Booth stared at the airplane wing he had hanging on the wall. The light dim, the only source of light coming from a single lamp in the living room, added to his state of melancholy.

Concerned for her husband, Brennan moved slowly down the stairs, left the bottom of the staircase and moved over to the couch where her husband was resting. Settling down on the couch next to him, she placed her hand on his thigh, "What's wrong, Booth?"

His hand covering hers, Booth stared at the back of his hand, "Colonel Pelant came around again this afternoon. He tried to talk me into reenlisting."

Nervous, Brennan asked with trepidation, "What did you tell him?"

Twinning his fingers with hers, Booth replied, "I told him no and to leave me alone. I don't understand why he keeps coming around me trying to recruit me. It doesn't make any sense. I'm not physically fit. I'm going to be handicapped for the rest of my life. I never know when I'm going to have a seizure again. The only thing that's keeping them away is my prescription. I'm not fit for service and . . . "

Interrupting him, Brennan interjected, "You are fit, Booth. You are by no means handicapped. You do have a few problems, that's true, but they're mostly under control. You haven't had a seizure for months now."

"Yeah, that seems to be under control, but that's not the only thing wrong with me." Disgusted, Booth reminded her, "My feet and back are a wreck. I don't like to admit it, but I was diagnosed a long time ago with PTSD. Add to that, I had brain surgery and I have all the shit that goes with that and they aren't ever going to go away, at least not any time soon. I'm a mess . . . I know it and they should know it too and that's what worries me."

Curious about his train of thought, Brennan asked him, "What do you mean? Is your gut telling you something?"

"Yeah, I know you don't really believe in my gut, but yeah, something's really wrong." Pulling up her hand and kissing it, he lowered it back down to his thigh, "Harris pointed it out to me this afternoon. He says that something is wrong with Colonel Pelant asking me to re-up and the more I think about it the more I realize that he's right. The only thing is, I have no idea what it is. I may never know."

Staring at his profile, Brennan responded, "If there is a secret agenda then I can't imagine what it i,s but if you and Harris are suspicious then I'm going to assume that there is something in this. As long as you refuse to take him up on his offer then I think that will alter whatever it is he's trying to accomplish and perhaps he will just leave you alone."

Booth stood up, grasped Brennan's hands and pulled her up, Placing his his arms around her, he pressed his cheek against the top of her head and commented, "Well, whatever is going on isn't going to be solved tonight or any time soon. I'm not going to play the Colonel's game so maybe like you said, he'll lose interest." Kissing her, he smiled, "I'm not going to let that guy get to me. I told him to stay away and for his sake he better take me seriously."

Ooooooooooooo

Scanning the area as he parked his SUV, Booth turned to look at his spouse and partner, "Okay, this is your first case since you came back. I didn't mind working with Clark but I'm glad you're back." Leaning over and kissing her, he smiled, "Good luck."

Irritated, Brennan opened the passenger door and hopped out of the SUV, "Luck doesn't have anything to do with it, Booth. I am a highly skilled Forensic Anthropologist and having a baby and being forced to stay away from work for several months didn't change that." Slamming the door, she trudged around the truck where she met her partner, "I don't want you trying to golly coodle me Booth. I don't need it nor do I want it."

Puzzled, Booth watched her open the back of the truck and remove her kit. Realization hitting him, Booth smirked, "That's molly coddle and I have no intention of doing that. I expect you to do your job like you always do."

Pausing, Brennan stared at her partner, "Then why did you wish me luck?"

His charm smile beaming at her, Booth replied, "I wasn't thinking Bones. I didn't mean anything by it. It just . . . you know, slipped out."

Mollified, Brennan watched Booth close the back of the truck and then turned to approach the crime scene. Booth, following his wife, pulled out his index cards and started to make notes about what he was seeing. Once he'd done that, he took a statement from the man who'd found the body, made more notes and then stepped back to where the body was being examined by Brennan and Cam, "Got anything yet?"

Studying the body, Cam responded, "Female, age . . . roughly thirty to forty."

Cautiously, Brennan moved the head of the victim for a better look and stated, "Caucasian."

Glancing at the body, Booth scrunched his mouth and shook his head, "What's left of her clothes look like scrubs to me."

"Yes, I agree, but with the popularity of scrubs we can't assume that this person is in the medical field." Noticing a bulge in the pants pockets, Cam pulled out a phone and handed it to Booth.

Booth, grabbing a baggy out of his jacket pocket allowed Cam to drop the phone inside.

Moving over to where one of the techs was working, Booth ordered her, "Give me some gloves." After the tech had searched her kit and handed him a pair, he placed his index cards in his pocket and then donned the gloves. Holding the baggy covered phone up where he could see the screen, Booth tapped the bottom button on the phone and watched the face light up and display the time and 54 percent charged. Sliding the bar across the bottom of the phone, he found that all of the apps were closed. Tapping mail he started to scroll through the subjects and then pressed the top of the phone to shut it off. Placing the bagged phone in his pocket, Booth frowned, "I'll have to check through the phone and see what I can find." Curious, Booth turned and looked at his wife, "Do you know what killed her yet?"

Not wishing to guess, Brennan responded, "Nothing obvious is presenting itself. You'll have to wait until we get the body back to the Lab and we can run some tests."

"Okay, I'm going over to my truck and see if I can find anything useful on the phone." Glancing at Brennan to make sure she didn't have any questions or comments before he left, he walked over to his truck, opened the back and sat on the tailgate. Studying the phone, he started to run through contacts and other information, jotting down the information onto index cards.

Oooooooooooo

That evening, while Brennan prepared dinner, Booth fed Christine and helped Parker with his homework. Christine cradled in his arms, sucking on her bottle, he talked to his son, "Hey Parker, I thought we might see about signing you up for science camp at the Jeffersonian this summer, if you're interested that is. I heard it's a pretty cool program."

Looking up from his book, Parker smiled, "That's sound's cool, Dad. I really like their programs . . . Oh, I was wondering if I could sign up for soccer this summer."

Certain that soccer was un-American, Booth tried to be encouraging and gave the boy a weak smile, "Uh, yeah, sure. . . Um, don't you want to play baseball this year? You play baseball every summer or at least you used to."

Shrugging his shoulders, Parker flipped through his math book until he found the formulas he was looking for, "Well, I like baseball but I thought I'd try out for soccer this year. They play that sport a lot in England, but over there they call it football not soccer. I kinda like it. Some of my friends over there showed me how to play."

Resigned, Booth nodded his head, "Okay, soccer it is. Just don't expect me to call it football because it ain't."

Ooooooooooooo

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	6. Chapter 6

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Oooooooooooooo

Arriving at the school, Booth parked up front and entered the building. Walking rapidly down the hallway, he soon found the Principal's office. The door open, Booth breezed in and looked around the room. Spying his son sitting on a chair near the secretary's desk, Booth walked over to where the boy was sitting and knelt in front of him. "Parker."

Embarrassed and worried, the boy leaned forward and placed his arms around his father's neck, "I'm sorry."

Letting the boy cry for a few minutes, Booth finally pulled away and placed his index finger under the child's chin, "Are you alright?"

Parker bit his lower lip, nodded his head and mutely glanced at the principal who was now standing behind Booth.

The look of fear on his boy's face angering him, Booth stood up and faced the man, "Is this is how you protect your students? My boy has a black eye."

Booth's size rather intimidating to the smaller man, Principal Hardy held up his hands, "Mr. Booth, I'm sorry this happened and I can assure you it won't happen again."

"I think I need a better explanation than what I got on the phone." Pulling his son from his chair to stand next to him, Booth glared at the principal.

Nodding his head, Hardy agreed, "Yes. If you'll follow me, I think we should have this conversation in my office."

Following the head of the school, Booth and Parker stepped into Hardy's office, watched the man close the door and then move around his desk. Sitting down, the man pointed at the chairs in front of his desk, "Please Sir, sit down and we can talk about what happened."

Booth sat down and pulled his son towards him so that the boy was facing the principal and placed his arms around protectively around him. Staring at the Principal, Booth ordered him, "Tell me what happened right now."

Leaning forward on his desk, Hardy responded, "We have zero tolerance for bullying so I want you to know that this will not be repeated. Apparently one of the older boys in our school was harassing a younger student and Parker took exception to this and tried to facilitate a quick cessation. The older boy is much bigger and took advantage of that fact. The boy won't do it again I can assure you."

Annoyed with the Principal's dollar words, Booth looked down and turned his son around, "Parker, tell me what happened since your principal is hiding behind a dictionary."

"Barry had Paul on the ground and was holding him down and trying to steal his snack money." Staring intently at his father, Parker explained, "He was crying and trying to push Barry off but Barry is a big guy and Paul is just nine. It wasn't fair Dad. I pushed Barry off and he hit me and threw me on the ground and told me that if I didn't give him some money he was going to knock my teeth out. Candy ran and told my teacher and Ms. Green pulled Barry off of me." Glancing at the principal, Parker returned his attention back to his father, "Barry says his dad is someone important and he wasn't going to be punished and when Mr. Hardy told me not to call you and that he was going to call you tonight I got afraid that Barry was going to get away with what he did. Barry hurt Paul and he shouldn't be able to do that and I said I was going to call you and I did."

His attention turned back to the principal, Booth stared coldly at the man, "I don't care who Barry's father is Mr. Hardy. That boy is obviously trouble and I expect you to take care of it. If you don't I will. He committed assault on two boys. Just in case you don't get it, I'm not someone to screw with."

His mouth very dry, Hardy swallowed convulsively and threw his hands up in a placating manner, "Mr. Booth, I . . ."

Interrupting him, Booth lifted his chin, "FBI Special Agent Booth, head of Major Crimes for the District of Columbia."

Aware of who Booth was and his position at the FBI, Hardy jerked his head up and down, "Yes, I know that, I'm sorry, I misspoke Agent Booth . . . Um, like I said we have a zero tolerance for bullying at this school. I'm meeting with Barry's father this afternoon. Barry is going to be suspended for a week and he will be told that the next incident will be resolved with his expulsion."

Standing, Booth pulled his son next to him, "There had better not be another incident, Principal Hardy."

"Yes, of course." Standing, the principal frowned, "I didn't mean to imply to your son that nothing would be done about Barry. I had planned to mete out punishment this afternoon and wanted to talk to Barry's father before I talked to you to make sure everything was in place. Parker insisted that you be called before I met with Barry's father and I of course did so. I agree that a black eye is bad but I didn't think it warranted disturbing your day. I was going to call you about it this evening. I can assure you that I wasn't going to sweep any of this under a rug."

Still angry, Booth held up his hand, "I don't know what kind of school you're running, but I want to know when someone hurts my son. I want to be disturbed for my son. Now maybe the other parents in this swanky school of yours puts up with crap like this, but I don't. I hope you get my drift."

Irritated, the Principal nodded his head, "Of course, Agent Booth. Parker and Paul were both checked by our school nurse and she informed me that both boys were fine. Granted a black eye isn't something we want to see on your son, but all in all he is fine. You can also be assured that we don't tolerate bullying at this school and it doesn't matter that Barry's father is a lawyer. We have a lot of children that attend this school whose parents have powerful positions in business and government. Barry is not only a bully, but he has an inflated sense of self worth. I understand Parker was upset and he had a right to be, but it was going to be handled. It is being handled."

Placing his hand on Parker's shoulder, Booth conceded, "Fine, I'm taking Parker out of classes for the rest of the day. You do what you're supposed to do and I better never hear that my boy has been hit by anyone at this school again."

Ooooooooooooooo

Arriving at the Hoover, Booth brought Parker to his office and had the boy start working on his homework, "Parker, I'm going to be in and out of this office for the rest of the afternoon. I want you stay in here. I'm going to try and wrap it up early so we can go out and eat with Bones and the baby. How does that sound?"

"Good Dad." Sitting on the floor near the window, Parker spread his books and notebooks on the floor and started to do his homework.

Sad that his son had been hurt, Booth squatted next to him and ruffled his unruly hair, "I'm proud of you, Parker. You helped Paul when he needed it and I'm so proud of you for doing that. I want you to know that."

Looking up, Parker grinned, "Really?"

Proud of his son, Booth patted his shoulder and returned the boy's smile, "Yes, really." Standing, Booth moved over to the doorway and glanced back, "Remember to stay in here. Don't go anywhere with anyone unless it's Charlie. You know Charlie and you know where his desk is, right?"

"Sure, Dad, Charlie is nice." Looking back down at his books, the boy started to work on his math homework.

Noticing Booth standing near his doorway, Charlie stood up and called out to Booth, "Don't forget your meeting with Accounting in ten minutes."

Grateful for the reminder, Booth waved at his agent, walked down the hallway and entered the stairwell. Pausing on the landing, Booth pulled his phone out of jacket pocket. Sending a text message to Brennan, he let her know he was going to get off of work around four and asked her if she wanted to go out for dinner.

Shortly afterward he received a text message: _Yes of course. Is everything alright?_

Checking the message, Booth replied: _Yes. I'm going to a meeting. I love you._

His phone chiming almost immediately, Booth saw: _I love you too._

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	7. Chapter 7

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I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooo

"I probably overreacted but when I saw Parker sitting in the Principal's office with a black eye, but damn it, it just made me so angry." Sitting on the chair near the closet, Booth rubbed his forehead. "It just reminded me of when I was a kid. When I was about Parker's age I was just average height and I was picked on at school. Most of the kids knew my father didn't give a shit about his kids and I guess that made Jared and me targets. It didn't really stop until I started getting bigger and that was when I was about fourteen."

Sitting on the bed, Brennan shook her head, "I imagine you were startled when you saw Parker with a black eye, Booth. I understand why you reacted the way you did. As long as the bully is punished and he doesn't do it again the problem should be fixed."

Worked up, Booth twisted his wedding ring on his finger and grunted, "The principal was doing his job and I came across as a bully. Kind of ironic since I was pissed about some kid bullying my kid."

Shifting her feet on the floor, Brennan shook her head, "Booth, you aren't a bully. You were merely trying to make sure that Parker and the other boy aren't hurt again. You were being protective. It's what you do."

Glumly, Booth glanced at the door, "No, I was being a bully. I thought things would be different for my son, but I guess that was wishful thinking. I can't protect him from the world and that's a fact. I can only hope he handles it well." Leaning forward on the chair, Booth smiled, "He made me so proud the way he stood up to that bully. I mean I wasn't happy he got a black eye out of it, but he stood up against someone bigger than he is and he did it to protect his friend. He's really a great kid."

The pride she saw on his face filled her with her own sense of pride. Standing, she moved over to where her husband was sitting, sat on his lap and kissed him. "You both make me proud."

Eyes twinkling, Booth grinned, "Oh yeah?" Returning her kiss, Booth glanced at the door, "Why don't I lock the door and we can make out? Parker took his bike and went for a ride over to a friend's house. We have a little time to show each other just how proud we are of each other."

Laughing, Brennan walked across the room and locked the door, "Christine is asleep right now, so we do have a little free time. Let's not waste it."

Ooooooooooooooooooo

The phone ringing, Booth answered it, "Booth."

_Seeley, I thought I'd call you and let you know that they found out who attacked me outside the school._

Relieved, Booth smiled, "That's great, Rebecca."

_It was an employee of Trans-Co. He was arrested this morning. The man is afraid that if his company goes out of business he might lose his retirement so he thought kidnapping me and hiding me somewhere until the trial was over would save his company._

Shifting the phone to his other ear, Booth replied, "Did the owners of the company put him up to it?"

_No, he acted on his own. He's worked for Trans-Co since he graduated from school and he was afraid to lose his job and his pension. It was a ridiculous plan. I'm not a barrister and I'm not handling the case in court. I'm just a consultant on the case. He thought because the company we're representing is an American company, that I'm handling it. There was no way kidnapping me was going to stop the court proceedings. The whole thing is ridiculous._

Noticing Parker, come in through the front doorway, Booth waved him over, "Well, at least they caught the guy."

_Yes. Seeley, I'd like to know if you'd still like to keep Parker for the summer? I don't want to disrupt his school year again so I'd like him to finish up his year there and then if you still want to keep him for the summer that would be okay too. It's time he spent more time with you anyway._

Irritated that she had to ask, Booth assured her, "What are you kidding me? Of course, I want him to stay for the summer. Bones and I are getting married in August and I'd like him to be my best man."

_Oh, Seeley, I forgot, I'm sorry. Yes, I remember now. I have a suit for him, but he may not be able to wear it anymore. He had a growth spurt and . . . _

Interrupting her, Booth responded, "Nah, don't worry about that. I'll just get him a new one. Hey you want to talk to him? He's standing right here."

_Oh, yes I would. Thank you._

"Here Buddy, you're Mom wants to talk to you." Handing his son the phone, Booth walked over to kitchen and retrieved a beer from the fridge. Opening the bottle, he could hear that his son was talking about the bully at school. Opening the back door, he walked out into the back yard and sat down on one of the chaise lounge on the deck. Drinking his beer, Booth stared at the moon, it's fullness drawing his eyes towards it. Finishing his beer, he placed the empty bottle on the floor of the deck and closed his eyes.

Ooooooooooooooo

The hour growing late, Brennan stepped into Parker's bedroom, "Parker have you seen your father lately?"

Storing his school books in his book bag, Parker looked up, "I haven't seen him since I talked to Mom on the phone and that over an hour ago. Do you want me to help you look for him?"

Brennan smiled and assured the boy, "No, you can go to bed, I'm sure he's close by, his truck is in the driveway."

Leaving her step-son's room, Brennan walked down the staircase and then opened the front door to check the porch. Not seeing Booth, she closed and locked the door and then walked over to the back door. Opening it, she noticed her husband lying on one of the chaise lounge chairs. Stepping out on to the deck, she walked over to where he lay and leaned over, touching his shoulder, "Booth, it's getting late."

His eyelids flashing open, Booth stared into Brennan's concerned face, "Yeah, okay." Rubbing his eyes he stretched and yawned, "It's so peaceful out here. I used to sit out here when I was a kid and I wanted to think about things. I'm glad we bought Pop's house. It just seems like I was meant to be here."

Sitting on the edge of his chair, Brennan smiled, "It is a very nice house."

Reaching out and taking her hands in his, Booth leaned over and kissed her, "How's it feel to be back at work? I know you didn't want to leave Christine, but she seems to be happy at day care."

"I'm fine." Debating about telling him just how nervous she'd really been, Brennan frowned, "The first few days, I went over to Day Care quite often to check on her, but they seem to be taking good care of her and I've become more confident that the day care workers are doing their jobs correctly."

Amused, Booth pulled her hand up and kissed it, "You're a great Mom, Bones. Christine is a very lucky baby." Releasing her hand, Booth stood up, "It's been a long day and I'm bushed." Pulling her to her feet, Booth placed his arm around her shoulders, "Scotland Yard found the nut that tried to kidnap Rebecca so she's safe. She wants to let Parker finish his school year here and then he can stay with us for the summer. I think this is going to be the best summer ever. Have you decided where you want to go on our honeymoon yet? We need to make reservations soon."

Her arm around his waist, Brennan responded, "I was thinking we could go to Maine."

Surprised, Booth guffawed, "Maine? Really?"

"Yes, I've never been there and I thought it would be nice to see something new." Walking with him to the door, she released her arm from his waist and opened the door, "I'm always interested in seeing new places, aren't you?"

Following her into the house, Booth turned and locked the door, "If you want to go to Maine then that's where we'll go. I just thought you'd like to go to somewhere more exotic with a beach and . . ."

Shrugging her shoulders, Brennan replied, "It is exotic if you've never been there before."

Ooooooooooooooooo

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	8. Chapter 8

Thank you for your continued interest in my story.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooo

Entering Brennan's office, Booth stopped in his tracks and stared at the tableau before him. Fisher was holding a shield in one hand and a sword in the other while Brennan was holding a spear facing him.

"Now Mr. Fisher, I don't actually plan to hurt you so please be careful and do what I say as the experiment progresses. If you don't follow my instructions carefully you run the risk of being impaled and that would be unpleasant for both of us."

His face solemn, the intern grimaced, "I suppose it would. Still, it isn't like I'm not going to die from something and being impaled on a spear might be rather a novel way to go."

Not certain what was going, Booth clasped his hands in front of his waist and silently watched.

"Hold your shield up and make sure it is centered over your body." Holding the spear, Brennan pointed at the shield. "Good. Now I am going to thrust my spear slowly at the shield until the point makes contact with the shield." Following through, Brennan rested the tip on the shield. "Now take your sword and thrust it at me slowly. Of course, I want you to be careful and stop short of actually inserting the sword in my body."

Snorting, Fisher smiled slightly, "Yes, that would probably be a good idea." Glancing at Booth behind Brennan, Fisher remarked, "Agent Booth would probably shoot me if I hurt you."

Nodding his head slowly, Booth pointed at the intern and then moved his jacket away from his holstered gun letting him know he was armed.

Fisher, returning his full attention back towards Brennan, smiled, moved his sword slowly towards her and rested the tip against her upper chest. "I think you're imaginary leather armor might be a match for my sword skills with the first blow, but I would eventually penetrate it and and you would at the very least be incapacitated."

Amused at Fisher's sureness, Brennan tapped her spear point against Fisher's upper thigh. The point actually an unpleasant pressure against his pant leg and too close to his penis, Fisher looked down, "Ah, I suppose slicing my femoral artery would have happened before I managed to get through your armor." Lowering his sword, Fisher frowned, "The warrior did die the way you said he did, but as far as I am concerned it was pure stupidity to use a sword against a long spear like this."

Unconcerned with Fisher's statement, Brennan reminded him, "A skilled swordsman would have been more than a match for someone holding a spear. The swordsman was young and no doubt unskilled."

Delighted at the demonstration, Booth clapped his hands noted, "One squint down and a few more to go. You aren't killing them fast enough Bones. You're slacking."

Rolling her eyes, Brennan turned to look at her husband and partner, "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be at Quantico this morning."

His jacket flipped back over his gun to conceal it once more, Booth informed her, "We have a case, chop chop, let's go."

Handing her spear to Fisher, Brennan instructed him, "Please take these back to the Roman exhibit and then place the bones that are on the examination table back into the storage box and return the box to it's proper slot. After you've finished that task, please make sure you write up our experiment and email it to me."

Aware that Booth was impatiently waiting for her, she grabbed a pair of coveralls from her closet, opened her bathroom door and assured him, "I'll be ready in a few minutes."

Watching her close the bathroom door, Fisher reasoned, "I know you really wouldn't shoot me, Agent Booth. The FBI would really frown upon that kind of behavior."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth smiled, "Accidents happen, Sport."

A chill running down his spine, Fisher carried the weapons and shield past Booth and then entered the hallway, "Of course they do."

ooooooooooooooo

A little sick, Booth tried not to look too closely at the "body" lying before him. Taking his note cards out of his pocket, he flicked his pen open and poised the nib over the card, "Okay, cause of death?"

Amazed that he could ask her that with a straight face, Cam shook her head and looked up at Booth, "Really?"

Unconcerned with her attitude, Booth glanced at the techs moving around the clearing, collecting as much of the body as they could find. "Well, I had to ask."

Returning her attention back to the pile lying before her, "It's probably safe to say the victim was chopped up by a wood chipper."

Brennan quickly protested Cam's observation, "We'll have to study the remains before we can say that for certain that is what happened, Booth."

Amused at Brennan's denial, Cam commented rather slyly, "Yes, of course. There are just so many ways a body could end up looking like an ingredient for meatloaf."

Holding up his hand, Booth cleared his throat, "Okay, I'm pretty sure we've talked about this before. Please, don't compare these bodies to food. It's just not right."

Her gaze moving from the body bits to her supervisor, Brennan reminded her, "He likes for us to use sports metaphors. He says that equating bodies to food is disgusting and disrespectful."

Biting her lower lip, Cam winked at Brennan, "I forgot . . . We really are going to have to wait until we study all of the remains to see if we can figure out the cause of death. The pieces are very small and there are a hell of a lot of them." With a twinkle in her eyes, she explained further, "Like tiddly winks. I think that's about the right size."

Resigned, Booth placed his note cards and pen in his jacket pocket, "Okay, I got it. You don't know cause of death, yet. . . . I'm going to go talk to the woman who found the body bits."

Watching him walk away, Cam turned back to the body, picked up some of the ground up body and placed it into evidence bags, "He really hates this part of the job."

Sympathetic, Brennan watched her husband stride across the clearing, "Yes, he never has been able to disassociate himself from the victim."

Glancing over at Booth talking to a very pale woman, Cam replied, "Thank God."

oooooooooooooo

Waiting in the driveway for Parker, Angela studied the women standing next to their cars, chatting. Glancing at her watch, she didn't notice two of the women separate from the group and approach her until they were almost standing next to her.

Her curiosity bubbling over, the smaller woman held her hand out to shake Angela's hand, "Hi, you're new aren't you?"

Looking down at her dress, Angela slyly remarked, "No, I'm pretty sure I'm not."

Confused, the taller woman giggled, "Okay. . . . Um, my name is Bea and this is my friend Tia. Are you here to pick up a child?"

Bored, Angela leaned against her car and decided to play, "I'm here to pick up a child yes."

Angela's evasive answer annoying Bea, she asked her, "I guess not your child then?"

Bea's nosiness rubbing her a little raw, Angela moved a little away from her inquisitors, "Oh no. I'm just picking up a friend's son."

The bell in the school pealing, the door in the main entrance opened and children poured out of the building. Racing towards the cars in the driveway or to small mini buses awaiting to take them home, the children shouted at each other and jostled each other to get to their rides.

Parker, spying Angela, raced over to where she was standing and asked her, "Hi, Angela are you picking me up today?"

Her hand on the boy's shoulder, Angela leaned over and kissed his cheek, "Yes, your father is at a crime scene right now, so I volunteered to come and get you."

Moving his gaze around him, the boy pulled on her arm and whispered to her, "Do you know the secret password?"

Certain that Parker wouldn't go with her if she made a joke out of the situation, Angela leaned over and whispered into Parker's ear, "Magic Cookie Bars."

Relieved, Parker ran over to the passenger door of Angela's car, opened it and got in the car.

Bea, staring at Angela in surprise, asked the artist, "Isn't his father Seeley Booth? Agent Seeley Booth?"

Wiggling her eyebrows, Angela flippantly replied, "Yes he is or as I like to call him Senor Studly."

Shocked, Tia waved her hand in front of her face and protested, "But, he's living with that author Temperance Brennan isn't he?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Angela walked around to the driver's side of her car, "I know. I'm just his friend on the side."

The stunned looks on their faces rather amusing to her, Angela settled into her car, put her keys in the ignition and told Parker, "I think I'm going to be in big trouble with your Dad, Parker."

Curious, Parker asked, "How come?"

Resigned, Angela sighed, "Because nosy people bother me and I just . . . . well never mind. Let's go. You can do your homework in my office until it's time to go home. If Booth and Brennan are still tied up, you get to come home with me. Hodgins is making his famous chili tonight. You'll love it."

His mouth watering, Parker rubbed his hands together, "Oh boy, I love chili."

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Oops, Angela was very naughty. What do you think of my story?


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you for the reviews. I appreciate them all.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooo

Peeking into Brennan's office, Angela saw her best friend reading a journal. Closing her eyes, Angela shook her head and then opened her eyes, "Sweetie, do you have time to talk to me? I can come back if you don't."

Glad to see her friend, Brennan placed a bookmarker in her magazine, closed the magazine and gave her a welcoming smile, "Yes. I was just reading while I wait for Wendell to clean the bones."

Unable to hide her nervousness, Angela entered the office and stopped just inside the door, "I need to tell you something and I want you to know it was just a joke. Really, how was I to know that those two biddies were going to believe me? I was just kidding with them."

Uncertain about what Angela was talking about, Brennan fretted, "I don't know how to answer your question Angela. You need to give me more information."

"Uh, yeah." Folding her arms across her breasts, the artist stepped further into the room, "Well, I check social media once a day to see what's going on with your fans. Plus I check Booth's name and Hodgins and several of my friends. You'd never believe some of the silly stuff that people put out there without verifying whether or not its true or not. I remember . . . "

Her patience growing thin, Brennan interrupted her friend, "Did you want to tell me something in particular?"

Resigned to accept her fate, Angela coughed a little, "Yes, Honey. This afternoon when I picked up Parker from school there were two busy bodies trying to find out why I was at the school. I know I shouldn't have done it . . . believe me I know better . . . but, well . . . I was very sarcastic and I made a comment that I knew might be misinterpreted. I thought I was being funny, but I knew it wasn't taken that way as soon as I said it. Those idiots took me seriously and I'm sorry. I probably should have corrected my mistake right then and there, but I didn't and . . . " The look of disinterest plain on Brennan's face, Angela finished what she needed to say in a rush, "I told them I was there picking up a friend's son. I also told them that I'm Booth's friend on the side and now it's on twitter that he's two timing you with me. Your fans are very upset with him. I've even seen some threats against him. I am so sorry!"

"Angela." Exasperated, Brennan asserted, "I'm sure they aren't as angry as Booth is going to be when he hears about this." Pulling her phone out of her jacket pocket, Brennan advised her, "I'd stay away from Booth for the next few days if I were you. I'll call my publicist and see if she can put out a statement to fix this."

Anxious, Angela fretted, "I'm so sorry, Honey. I forget that you're famous and that people actually care about the things I say when I'm talking about you or Booth. I was just being sarcastic and those twitter heads took what I said seriously. I don't know if your publicist can really fix this."

Checking her contacts list on the phone, Brennan stared at her friend, "She's very good at her job . . . Please be careful and don't talk about me or Booth to the public Angela. It's quite upsetting especially to Booth. He doesn't like it when they chat about him on the internet. He claims its an invasion of his privacy."

Chastised, Angela nodded her head, "I'm sorry, Sweetie. I have a famous father and I know how these things can snowball. Believe me, Dad used to read the riot act to me at least once a week when I was a kid about how mouthy I was. I guess I forgot and I am sorry. Please tell Booth that I'll never mention your name or his in public to someone I don't know ever again. I absolutely will make sure this never happens again. I promise."

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"Angela did what?" Furious, Booth followed Brennan into the house.

Carrying the baby seat over to couch, Brennan unbuckled her baby and removed Christine from the carrier. "She picked up Parker from school and two busy bodies inquired as to why she was there and she told them she was there to pick up a friend's son. She also told them that she is your friend on the side and that was misinterpreted to mean that you and she are currently having an affair."

Parker, standing near the door, listened avidly to Booth and Brennan's conversation. Booth, noticing his son was in the room, pointed to the stairs, "Listen Parker, I need to talk to Bones alone. Go upstairs and start your homework. We'll call you down when dinner is ready."

Disappointed, Parker reluctantly left the room and ascended the stairs, throwing glances back at his father and step-mother.

Once Parker's bedroom door was closed, Booth pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket, entered into his twitter account and searched his name. Outraged, he read the many tweets about him having an affair behind Brennan's back and a few of the death threats being posted by a few of the more rabid fans. Barely containing his rage, Booth closed the app and placed the phone back into his pocket, "I'm the head of Major Crimes for God's sake. How do you think my bosses are going to take this shit? My God!"

Carrying Christine over to the kitchen, Brennan paused, "I contacted my publicist and she's trying to fix it. She wants me to deny it in a tweet. I need to set up a twitter account this evening to do it though. I don't actually have one of those."

His teeth grinding, Booth ran his hand through his hair, rubbing the scar hidden there. "Angela should know better, she's not a child. Her father is famous for God's sake. She shouldn't be talking to anyone about you let alone me. . . . God, I could just . . . I . . ."

Entering the kitchen, Brennan reminded him, "She was joking, Booth. She shouldn't have done it, but it was a joke. I'll to do a tweet tonight to let everyone know it was a joke."

"A bad joke?" Not mollified in the least, Booth followed his wife into the kitchen. "Damn this is nightmare. This is so . . . I can't believe this is happening to me. . . Fuck!"

Placing Christine in a bassinet she had set up in the corner of the kitchen, "Come on, Booth. We'll fix dinner and afterward we'll set up a twitter account for me and I'll tweet how ridiculous the whole thing is."

His rage barely under control, Booth walked over to the fridge to get ingredients out for dinner, "Maybe you shouldn't tweet anything. They'll either say you're being made to do it or you just don't know what I'm up to or something like that. When people get shit going they don't want to stop."

Certain she needed to fix it, Brennan responded, "My publicist thinks I should do it. She's had experience with this kind of thing before. It can only help the situation. She thinks silence is affirmation. The public will think it's true if I don't say something."

Disgusted with the entire situation, Booth leaned against the counter, "I'm screwed, you'll see. I'm toast one way or the other."

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Spying Angela standing in front of her office, Booth stalked over to where she was standing, "Angela, I hope you don't plan to make a habit of fucking around with my life."

Embarrassed, the artist blushed furiously, "Booth, I know better, I really do. I am so sorry I talked to those little creeps. I don't know why I did it. I don't usually talk to people about you or Brennan, I promise I don't. I just . . . I just didn't think and I am so sorry. I just said something sarcastic and they took it the wrong way. I didn't mean to imply that we were having an affair, I really didn't. I was just being . . . I thought I was being funny."

Exhaling deeply, Booth shook his head and complained, "I had three meetings this morning. First with the Deputy Director and then with the Director. But the worse was yet to come. I was in a meeting with Caroline for an hour. Caroline was pissed and it took me a long time to convince her that you and I aren't having an affair. You put me through the wringer, Angela. I've had a hell of a morning. I just wanted you to know that. This is all your fault."

Placing her hand on his arm, she then immediately withdrew it when he quickly stepped away from her.

"Don't touch me, Angela for God's sake. It'll just add fuel to the bonfire you set off." Glancing around, Booth saw the hallway was empty except for them, "The last thing I need is for someone to post something on twitter saying that you and I were doing something."

Her face turning even redder, Angela crossed her arms, "No you're right. I'm sorry. I'm just not thinking. I don't know what's wrong with me. I hope you forgive me, Booth. I didn't mean to get you into any trouble. . . It's just a joke that went very bad."

Hooking his thumbs in his belt, Booth spoke quietly, "I was mad, Angela, but I'm not anymore. I'm just really disappointed in you that's all. You hurt Bones more than you hurt me. She's famous for God's sake. Bones set up a twitter account to deny the rumors but she's getting a lot of tweets from idiots that refuse to believe that she's okay and I'm not unfaithful. She's really upset this morning . . . Please don't talk about her or me ever again. Just . . . please don't."

A tear sliding down her face, Angela nodded her head, "I won't I promise. Brennan is my best friend and I'll be more careful from now on."

Grateful, Booth relented, "Thanks. Social media is a big thing now. Just remember that sarcasm doesn't play well in the printed word. That's something I learned early when I started working for the FBI. No one can read sarcasm."

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What do you think of my story?


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you for reviewing my story. It is how I can tell you are interested in my story.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooo

Entering Booth's office, Harris closed the door, grinned and sat down on the chair near the doorway, "So how's the girlfriend?"

His anger boiling over, Booth slammed a folder down on the desk and glared at his friend, "That isn't even remotely funny you dumb ass."

Shrugging his shoulders, Harris backed down, "Well at least Dr. Brennan knows that it's all bullshit."

His teeth grinding, he finally calmed down and sighed, "That's because she knows I love her and I'd never betray her, still its been embarrassing as hell. . . . Angela knows better, her Dad is a Rock God for crying out loud. I can't believe she did that to me and Bones."

Crossing his right leg over his left knee, Harris chuckled, "Angela is definitely a free spirit. . . So anyway, that body that you guys were called to look at the other day may belong to Connie Murphy. She was reported missing by her husband a week before the body was found. She was last seen in the general area where the body was found so at least we can provide Dr. Brennan with some DNA to try to compare the remains to."

"Shit, the last thing I heard Bones was still trying to piece the body bits together." Disgusted, Booth shook his head, "Most of the bits aren't bigger than a quarter. Bones says that a few of the pieces are about as big as a silver dollar, but not enough of them to really matter."

Scrunching his nose, Harris asked him, "Do they still think it was a wood chipper?"

Not sure, Booth continued, "We had a case a few years ago where the victim was chopped up with a wood chipper so she and her people do have some experience with that kind of thing . . . That case was amazing. They only had a few pieces and they were able to find out who the victim was. They just blow me away sometimes. Bones and those squints make me look pretty damn good, I have to tell you."

Laughing, Harris shook his head, "It's too bad you're the only one that can work with them. They drive the other agents nuts."

Booth placed his folder back down and corrected his friend, "Bullshit, Bones likes you and will work with you and I don't hear you complaining when you do work with her either."

Holding his hand up, Harris conceded, "That's true, I do like Dr. Brennan, but that's because I understand her and I realize she's smarter than the average bear. Most of the agents around here don't like to look stupid and she has a tendency to make everyone look like idiots once in a while. I know one thing though, some of those interns she has make me so mad I'd probably threaten to kill them if I had to work with them all of the time. They have no respect for authority."

Leaning back on his chair, Booth reminded him, "I don't work with the interns. . . . Oh, before I forget to tell you, Scotland Yard found the lunatic that tried to kidnap Rebecca. She says it was someone connected to the company that her company is going after. She wants Parker to stay with me for the rest of the school year and for the summer."

"Alright, that sounds good." Uncrossing his legs, Harris leaned forward, "She isn't quite the bitch I thought she was."

Booth frowned and thought it over, "She can be pretty ruthless when she has to be. Believe me."

Standing, the younger man frowned, "I have a follow-up interview I need to get to. Let me know if you need my help with your case."

Watching his friend leave the room, Booth studied the almost empty bullpen.

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Stepping up onto the platform, Cam walked over to where Brennan and Hodgins were working. "Good, I see the bones have been cleaned."

Disgusted with tiny pieces, Hodgins glanced at his supervisor and complained, "This is even worse than I thought it was going to be. It's going to take a lot of man hours to get this . . . this skeleton put together."

Studying the pieces, Brennan remarked, "That's true, but it can be done. I think I would like Dr. Edison and Mr. Nigel-Murray to help me in my endeavors. They have a very keen eye and should be able to do an adequate job while I supervise."

A little smile gracing her lips, Cam replied, "I'll call them and let them know they've been moved up in the rotation. Booth sent over some DNA samples of Connie Murphy, a woman reported missing over a week ago. It's possible that she might be our victim. I'm running the tests right now."

Please with the news, Brennan responded, "Good. Once we've put the skeleton together I am hoping we will be able to determine cause of death and what was used to dismantle the body."

Holding up a tray, Hodgins informed them, "When the bones were cleaned I was able to recover some materials with it. Whoever chopped up our victim didn't bother to take her clothes off so I have a lot of fiber to work with. I also have a lot of insects and flora to look at it. I'm hoping it will pinpoint where the body was dismantled but that may not be possible. Some of the animals in the area where the body was dumped ate some of the victim so I'm pretty sure we don't have a complete skeleton. I collected animal waste from the crime scene just in case it contains some of our victim."

Grateful that they had a plan and some leads, Cam nodded her head, "Good, I'll let Booth know what we're working on and our status." Turning to leave, Cam stopped and turned back, "Please don't mention the name of the victim to anyone outside the Lab. Booth wants to keep her identity under wraps until we're 100 percent certain of her identity. If this really is Connie Murphy then we will be under a complete news blackout and all information about this case will be handled by the FBI."

Suspicious, Hodgins asked, "How come? Why should they get all the glory?"

Glancing at the piles of bones bits, Cam replied, "Connie Murphy is the daughter of Morgan Murphy."

An icy chill run down his back, Hodgins turned to stare at the white bits on the table, "Oh my God . . . . You're right, let's let the FBI handle the PR. Fine by me."

Not sure what was going on, Brennan asked Cam, "Who is Morgan Murphy?"

Expecting the question, Cam explained, "Morgan Murphy runs a criminal organization out of Massachusetts. He keeps a pretty low profile, but he's considered to be very ruthless and someone not to cross. If this is his daughter then whoever did this is going to have a very dangerous man looking for him or her. This is probably not going to end well."

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Leaving the pharmacy, Booth walked towards his car, checking the contents of his bag. As he approached his SUV he noticed a man leaning against it. Stopping a few feet from the intruder, Booth placed his bag on the ground and moved his hand near his gun, "Can I help you?"

Calmly, the stranger moved away from the truck and held up his hands, "I just want to talk, that's all Agent Booth."

Now alert that the stranger knew who he was, Booth pulled his gun and pointed it at the man, "Do we have a problem?"

Shaking his head, the stranger frowned and kept his hands up, "Not at all. I wore a t-shirt and no jacket so you could see that I'm not armed. I'm going to slowly turn around and I'm going to raise my shirt so you can see you're safe." Moving his hands slowly downward, the stranger pulled up his shirt and then slowly turned in a circle. Once he was facing Booth, he lowered his shirt and then held his hands out from his sides, "Okay?"

Still suspicious of the man, Booth holstered gun and asked him, "Who are you and what do you want from me?"

Glancing around at the few people on the sidewalk who were pretending that they hadn't seen a gun wielding man earlier, the stranger shook his head, "My name is Roy Carter. My wife is . . . was . . . is Connie Morgan. I have a friend that gave me a heads up that you may have found her."

Enlightened, Booth picked up his pharmacy bag and moved closer to his truck, "Whose your friend?"

"Sorry, that would get a whole bunch of people in trouble." Glancing away and then back, Roy sighed, "Please Sir, have you found my wife?"

Unhappy that someone in the FBI or the Jeffersonian was a snitch, Booth shook his head, "We don't know Mr. Carter. A body was found a few days ago and my people are trying to identify her. If someone told you the victim was your wife then they did you a disservice. We really don't know who the victim is right now."

Nervously, biting his bottom lip, Roy stared intently at Booth, "How long do you think it will take you to find out?"

Not really sure, Booth explained, "It will depend upon the people that are working on the identification. Probably two or three days for the DNA test maybe more. I'm not an expert on that sort of thing. Once they know then I'll know. If it is your wife, then you will be contacted."

Clearing his throat, Roy hated to ask but did, "Why . . . why don't you just let me look at her? Or her father or her mother? I'm sure one of use could tell you if it's Connie or not."

He felt sorry for the man and he knew it was going to be terrible when the man and his family when they found out the condition of his wife's body, "I'm sorry Sir, but her body is in really bad shape. You won't be able to identify her by looking at what's left of her body."

His hand slapping against his mouth, as if to keep from throwing up, the distraught man exclaimed, "Oh my God!" His hand trembling, Roy stared in horror at Booth, "Oh my dear lord."

Sympathetic, Booth commiserated, "I'm sorry, Sir. Whoever told you about our victim should have waited and let us come to you if it is your wife. . . . If the victim is Connie, I will contact you."

Nodding his head, the anguished man stepped away from the truck. "Thank you." Walking rapidly down the sidewalk, he soon turned a corner and disappeared from Booth's sight.

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Reviews would be great. Thank you.


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you for your continued interest in my story.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooo

"What do you mean Roy Carter tracked you down outside the pharmacy?" Livid, Harris paced in front of Booth's desk, "Damn it. If I find out who leaked that we may have found Connie Murphy's body . . . I swear to God . . ."

Interrupting his friend, Booth raised his voice, "Harris . . . Harris, sit down. The man wanted to know about his wife. I'm not crazy about him tracking me down, but it happened. I do want you to find out who told him though. Someone either here or at the Jeffersonian leaked that information and I want that person found and soon."

His rage barely under control, Harris sat down and glowered at Booth, "Oh, I'm going to find him and when I do, God help that little pimple."

Picking up his notebook, Booth flipped through several pages, "Chances are if Roy Carter knows then so does his father-in-law Morgan Murphy. I'm more worried about him than Carter. I want extra security used for our evidence here at the Hoover in this case and I'm going to call the Jeffersonian to warn Cam. We need to keep a lid on this until we know for sure our victim really is Connie Murphy. I don't want Morgan Murphy starting a vendetta, If we can solve this quickly it might help keep the fallout light."

His hands clenched on his lap, Harris shook his head, "Morgan Murphy is going to kill whoever killed his daughter, you and I both know that. All we can do is find out whoever did it first and try to get them into custody as quickly as possible."

"If our victim isn't Connie Murphy we still have a big problem. We need to identify our victim and go from there." Jotting a few notations in his notebook, Booth closed it. "Find out who leaked information to Carter and do it fast. I'm going to start treating the victim as if it is Connie to try to get ahead of this thing. If it isn't Connie then I'll have wasted a few hours, but we can't really do a proper investigation until we know who the victim is anyway. Bones says DNA will be confirmed this afternoon, Cam put a rush on it and bumped it to the head of the line."

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Ending his call, Booth shook his head and made a few notes. Hearing the notification alarm on his PC, Booth turned and opened his tab, "Hey Cam, what's up?"

Grimly, Cam glanced at file lying in front of her and then back at Booth, "Our victim is Connie Murphy. When her husband found out we had a body that might be his wife's he provided us with some hair from her hairbrush."

"Terrific, well at least we know for sure." Flipping his notebook back open, he made a few notes, "Do you have time of death yet?"

Glancing at her file, Cam responded, "Hodgins is sure that it's the day she was reported missing by her husband, nine days ago."

His pen hovering over the notebook, Booth frowned, "Has Hodgins got any idea where we can look for where she was killed? I'm pretty sure someone would have noticed a wood chipper in use where the body bits were found. That field is treeless and next to a main road. Someone just used it as a body dump and the animals in the area scattered it around. It's not the crime scene."

Shaking her head, Cam glanced at her entomologist, "No, he hasn't pinpointed that yet. There are a lot of particulates, but so far there isn't anything unique that points to a particular place. He's still looking though."

Interrupting her, Hodgins leaned over Cam and spoke in to the camera, "Hey man, there are a hell of a lot of particulates and I . . ."

"Fine, let me know when you can tell me where to look." Reaching over, he taped a key and disconnected his call.

Rolling his eyes Hodgins looked at Cam, "That went well."

Her mind on the ramifications, Cam closed her screen and sighed, "He's going to have to solve this case pretty quickly before Morgan Murphy decides to take action. This is not going to end well someone. I just hope it doesn't turn into some kind of gang war."

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Poking his piece of baked chicken with his fork, Booth moved it on the plate and then moved his peas around. Brennan, watching her husband staring at his plate, cleared her throat, "Booth are you alright?"

Parker, staring at his father, picked up his glass of milk, "Dad, we don't have to go to get my bike today if you don't want to."

Realizing that he was being talked to, Booth looked up, "What . . . What?"

Embarrassed, Parker shook his head.

Brennan, reaching over, placed her hand over Booth's hand and reminded him, "I believe you planned to go to the sporting goods store and see about a new bicycle for Parker as well as soccer shoes this evening."

Glancing at his son and then back at Brennan, Booth tried to smile, "Oh yeah, I guess we better finish eating and go." Picking up his knife, he cut up his chicken breast into smaller pieces and started to eat.

Trying to make Parker more comfortable, Brennan pointed at his plate and asked him, "Did you like the ratatouille?"

Grateful to Brennan, Parker scooped up the last bit on his plate and smiled, "I sure did, thank you for making it for me. Mom makes it when she has time."

Hearing her baby start to cry, Brennan placed her fork down, "I'm glad you liked it." Standing, Brennan leaned over and kissed Booth on the cheek, "Leave the dishes and I'll take care of them. You need to go to the store before it closes."

His thoughts elsewhere, Booth ate and continued to run over the Connie Murphy case in his mind.

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His shopping trip successful, Booth left the store carrying Parker's new bike while the boy carried the bags containing his soccer shoes, some t-shirts and new socks. Approaching his truck, Booth noticed a man leaning against it. Suspicious, he looked around and noticed a gray Mercedes sitting in a parking place about fifteen feet from his truck with two large men standing in front of it.

Little alarms going off in his head, Booth stopped, lowered the bike to the ground and pulled Parker next to him, "Parker I need you to stay here with your bike. If anything bad happens then I need you to promise me that you'll run back to the store as fast as you can and go inside. You can ask the manager to call 911 and then Bones. Do you understand me? Can I trust you to do what I asked you to do?"

Concerned, Parker swallowed, "Dad, what's going on?"

Squeezing his shoulder, Booth shook his head, "Just do what I say, Parker. I'll explain later. . . . Just . . . everything is okay, Bub. I just need you to stand here with your bike and if . . . if you need to run to the store don't worry about leaving your bike behind, it's okay."

Afraid for his father, Parker stared in fear at his father. Sighing, Booth leaned over and kissed his son on his cheek, "I'm just being cautious, Parker. I don't really expect any trouble, but I believe in being prepared. I love you. I'll be right back."

Patting the boy's shoulder, Booth turned and walked quickly over to the truck, "What do you want?" Pulling his badge out of his jacket pocket, Booth showed it to the man. "I advise you not to fuck with me and just walk away while you still can."

His gaze moving over to a visibly trembling Parker, the stranger held his hands out from his side, palms out, "I know who you are Agent Booth. I'm not here to cause you trouble in any way. I just want to talk to you, that's all. I would never attack a man in front of his kid. No way in hell I would do that."

His eyes flicking towards the men near the Mercedes, Booth asked, "What about those guys? Do I have to worry about them instead?"

Shaking his head, Morgan Murphy replied, "Nope, why would they bother you? . . . Look, my name is Morgan Murphy. My son-in-law told me that you may have found Connie and it doesn't look good. What I want to know is, is that body you found my daughter? Is my baby girl really dead? He said you guys are running some tests. I need to know if my daughter is dead?"

Grimly, Booth nodded his head slowly, "I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Murphy. Her remains were identified this afternoon. I tried to contact her husband as soon as I found out it was Connie, but I can't find him. I thought I'd try where he works tomorrow morning. Do you happen to know where he is?"

His hands wiping tears from his cheeks, Murphy cleared his throat, "Yeah, he's at home with my wife. He . . . Roy wanted me to find out about Connie. He said you were handling Connie's case and I said I'd approach you and ask . . . ask about our girl. He was afraid to come and ask you because he didn't want you to think he was harassing you. He doesn't like to bother people. Me, I can bother people so . . ." Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he blew his nose, "I said I'd ask you. I called the Hoover and they said you'd gone home. I drove over to your house, but I realized that that might be a bad idea so I was going to wait until tomorrow to see you but luck of luck, I saw you leave with the boy and I followed you here . . . . I know I scared your boy and I didn't mean to but my family . . . my wife is sitting at home crying and she . . . we need to know about Connie."

Glancing back at Parker, Booth smiled at the boy and waved at him. Turning back to face Murphy, Booth advised him, "Look, I don't like people stalking me. I don't appreciate you scaring the hell out of my son either. You want to talk to me, you contact me at the Hoover during business hours. I'm investigating the death of your daughter and I'm going to find out who killed her. I want you to give me time to do that. . . . I know who you are and I'm telling you to stay out of this and let me find Connie's killer."

Surprised, Murphy blew his nose once more and placed the cloth in his jacket pocket, "Okay you know who I am. I expected you to. . . . I'll give you time to do your job Agent Booth. You have a good rep when it comes to solving homicides. Your solve rate is pretty high so I couldn't ask for anyone better. I am giving you fair warning though. I won't let this turn into a cold case. I want you to find the murderer. No one is walking away from this."

Holding up his hand, Booth promised the grieving father, "When I find the murderer he'll be arrested and he or she will be tried for murder."

His emotions now under control, Murphy agreed with Booth, "Of course. You arrest him or her. I expect you to do your job and nothing else."

Glancing at Parker, Booth turned back to Murphy, "I need you or Roy to come by the Hoover tomorrow and talk to me. I need information and I usually start with the family."

Wary, Murphy fretted, "Me at the Hoover sounds like a bad idea, but . . . yeah, me and Roy will be there tomorrow around nine. We'll help you any way we can."

"I think we're done here, Mr. Murphy." Pointing at the Mercedes, Booth advised him, "I need to get home. Do not ever follow me again. I hope I've made myself clear about that."

Murphy smiled and waved at Parker, "I'm sorry, Boy. I didn't mean to scare you. I hope you have fun on your new bike." Walking away, Murphy strode over to his car, got in the back seat and when his two companions entered the car, had his driver take him home.

Walking back to where Parker was waiting, Booth picked up the bike and smiled, "So . . . let's drop by Baskin Robbins and get some ice cream. How does that sound?"

Relieved that the dangerous looking people were gone, Parker followed his father to the car and informed him solemnly, "I think I need a double scoop Dad."

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Reviews would be great, thank you.


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you for your reviews. I appreciate them a lot.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooo

Fascinated, Sweets sat down across the table from Morgan Murphy and Roy Carter and stared at the men who'd dared to approach Booth away from the Hoover.

Leaning back in his chair, Booth placed his hands on the arm rests of his chair, "Mr. Murphy, like I told you last night, I am sorry for your loss. I'm hoping that you can help us in our investigation into the murder of your daughter."

His hands clasped on the table before him, Murphy promised the agent, "I'll try to answer your questions the best that I can. Roy will probably be better able to help you though. I only see . . . . I only saw Connie once a month when she came back home for our family dinner . . . She never missed those. Her mother . . . her mother really enjoys having the family together under one roof." Clearing his throat, Murphy looked away and then back.

Turning to look at Roy, Booth asked, "Mr. Carter . . . has Connie been having any trouble with anyone lately. Did she have any enemies that you knew of?"

The whites of his eyes a mottled red, Carter rubbed them and placed his hands flat on the table, "Connie was a pretty popular teacher at Worcester Polytechnic Institute." Clearing his throat he rubbed his eyes again, "She . . . she specialized in nanotechnology. I don't know anything about that stuff. I'm afraid she was the brains in the family. I just teach violin."

Reaching over and rubbing his son-in-law's shoulder, Murphy shook his head, "Roy is a damn fine violinist. Don't let him bullshit you. He gave up his orchestra work to teach because he loves kids so much. Connie backed him on it too. She said he's pretty damn gifted and can teach anyone."

His cheeks turning a rosy red, Roy ducked his head and then looked back at Booth, "Cut it out Dad, I'm just a high school music teacher. . . Connie mentioned that someone had been leaving her gifts and sometimes flowers on her desk almost every morning for the last three weeks. Since she kept her office locked after office hours she said it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who was doing it. . . . She was annoyed and told the guy to stop it but he didn't take the hint. I offered to talk to him but Connie said she'd take care of it. She told me she thought he was pretty harmless."

"Did she mention his name?" Leaning forward, Booth flipped open his notebook and picked up his pen, "Was he a teacher where she worked?"

Shaking his head, Roy answered, "No, he doesn't teach at the Institute. His name is Horace Green. He's in charge of maintenance and he also supervises the people who do the ground work around the Institute. Connie talked to him about four days before she disappeared. The man said he was sorry for bothering her and Connie thought that was the end of it but the gifts kept on arriving. I've met the guy, he seems like an okay guy, but he was weirding Connie out. Do you think . . . do you think he might have . . ."

Making a few notes, Booth looked up once he was done, "It's early days, Mr. Carter. He may have nothing to do with this, but I need to start somewhere. I'll drive over to Worcester today and have a talk with him. I'll also try to interview some of the teachers and students and see where that leads." Turning to Murphy, Booth leaned forwards on the table, "Mr. Murphy, please let me do my job. Don't jump to conclusions and interfere in my investigation. It's not unusual for a lot of people to look suspicious until we understand motive. Okay?"

Murphy leaned back on his chair and assured Booth, "I'm not going to do a damn thing, but let you do your job, Agent Booth. I'm not a hothead and I'm not reckless regardless of what you may have heard. A man like me wouldn't get very far if I went around killing everyone that I thought had done something wrong."

Fascinated, Sweets eagerly asked, "You just wait until the proof is in and then kill them?"

Laughing, Murphy shook his head, "I don't know what or who you think I am, but I'm not a murderer. I'm a legitimate business man. I own several bars and restaurants. I have a lot of investments in and around the Boston area. I am not some mafia guy regardless of what the FBI thinks."

Grateful that Murphy appeared to be cooperating, Booth picked up his notebook and slipped it into his jacket pocket. Standing, he stated, "Good, glad to hear it. We'll keep you informed and let you know when we've found out what happened to Connie."

Standing, Murphy and Carter looked at each other. Clearing his throat, Carter asked, "How come you don't want to look my apartment over? Dad says that the spouse is always the number one suspect."

Amused at the question, Booth answered, "It may come down to that, Mr. Carter. It's early days yet. Give us time."

Blushing, Roy nodded his head, "As long as you're doing your job, I'm fine with whatever you do. If that means going over my apartment and car then do it. Get it out of the way. I need you to find Connie's murderer."

Walking over to the door, Booth looked back, "I may just take you up on that, Sir."

ooooooooooooooooo

Entering Brennan's office, Booth found his wife talking on the phone. Glancing at his watch, he walked back out of the office and stood in the hallway staring at the platform.

Hodgins, leaving his office, jogged over to where Booth was standing, "Hey man, Dr. B told me you two have to go up to Worcester. Angela is going to go get Parker and bring him back here. If you guys are running late we'll take him home with us along with Christine."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Glancing at his watch, Booth sighed. "How's things?"

Amused that Booth was trying to be patient and clearly failing, Hodgins grinned, "Things are good, thanks for asking." Glancing around the empty hallway, the entomologist cleared his throat, "Angela was just playing around the other day. You know her, she can't help herself. It's who she is. . . . She swore to me she won't talk about you or Dr. B in public ever again. She's really embarrassed that it snowballed like it did."

"I know she does shit like that, Hodgins." His patience clearly failed, he glanced in the office at Brennan and pointed at his watch. Turning back to Hodgins he continued, "But she put me in a bind and she embarrassed Bones. I just don't want a repeat that's all."

Watching Brennan end her call and grab her purse, Hodgins replied, "That's not likely to happen again, Booth. It embarrassed the hell out of her too."

Relieved that her call was finished, Brennan exited her office and smiled at Hodgins, "Thank you for offering to watch Parker and Christine if we're running late this evening. If it gets to be too much, call Dad. He loves to babysit the kids."

Shaking his head, Hodgins smiled, "Nah, it's good practice for Ange and me." Slapping his hand over his mouth, Hodgins shook his head.

Realization hitting him, Booth guffawed and slapped Hodgins on the shoulder, "Congratulations."

His eyes wide, Hodgins removed his hand from his mouth, "God, please don't mention this to Ange. She doesn't want anyone to know until she's sure."

Puzzled, Brennan asked, "Sure about what?"

Glancing at his watch, Booth grabbed Brennan's hand and pulled her down the hallway, "Come on Bones, I'll explain it to you on the way to Worcester."

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So what do you think of my story? Reviews would be great, thank you.


	13. Chapter 13

Thank you for your continued interest in my story. I appreciate your reviews.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooo

Once they arrived at the Worcester Polytechnic Institute, Booth and Brennan checked in with the Administration office. The clerk, impressed that an FBI agent was in her office, volunteered to call Horace Green and ask him to come to her office. Once the call was made, Gladys beamed at the handsome agent, "He's on his way, Agent Booth."

His eyes on his partner as she studied a brochure, Booth smiled, "Thanks." Moving over towards the doorway, Booth leaned against a bookcase and waited.

After arriving at the office, Horace entered the room and marched quickly over to the desk of Gladys Wimbly, "Okay Gladys, what's up. I have a shit load of work to do this afternoon."

Holding up his badge, Booth responded, "Mr. Green, I need to talk to you."

Surprised, Horace turned to face Booth, "What the hell for?"

Placing his shield and badge back in his jacket pocket, Booth pointed at the doorway, "My Partner and I would like to talk to you privately, Sir."

Puzzled, Horace shrugged his shoulders, "Okay, whatever." Walking over to the doorway, the maintenance supervisor stepped out into the hallway, "There's a conference room down the hallway. It's not being use this afternoon." Seeing Booth nod his head, Horace walked slowly down the hallway until he stopped in front of a closed door. Opening the door, he entered the room and sat down on the chair at the head of the table.

Booth entering the room behind him, looked around and sat down on the chair closest to the door. Brennan moving in to the room next, sat down next to her husband.

"We're looking in to the murder of Connie Murphy." Studying Horace very closely, Booth found the man's reaction to be interesting.

His eyes bulging, Horace leaned forward, "Her murder? Connie's dead?"

Nodding his head slowly, Booth informed him, "Her body was discovered a few days ago. My partner identified her and we're now trying to determine where she was before she was killed. We talked to her husband and he told me that you've been leaving presents on Connie's desk. She asked you to stop and you kept doing it anyway."

Annoyed at the implications, Horrace rolled his eyes and protested, "Presents? . . . They weren't presents, they were vegetables . . . Okay? Look Connie was a friend of mine, well we were friendly as coworkers are sometimes. She had a terrible habit of skipping meals and sometimes I'd remind her she had to eat. Sometimes she'd listen and sometimes she wouldn't. She called me an old lady about it so I started leaving her peppers and carrots and cucumbers and stuff like that. She said it made her uncomfortable, but it was just vegetables. It's not like I was giving her diamonds for God's sake. She was losing weight and everyone around here was starting to wonder if she had anorexia or something. I was trying to help her. I sure as hell didn't murder her. What would be my motive?"

Unconcerned about motive at the moment, Booth asked him, "Do you have a woodchipper on campus?"

Puzzled at the change in conversation, Horace nodded his head, "Yeah, sure. We have a lot of trees and bushes on campus."

"Can we look at it?" Glancing at Brennan, Booth saw her nod her head in agreement.

At a loss, Horace stood up, "Sure, come with me. It should be in the maintenance shed."

ooooooooooooooo

Standing outside of Parker's school, Angela noticed the two troublemakers she'd talked to earlier in the week approaching her. Ignoring them, she kept her eyes upon the entrance to the school.

"Hi, remember us?" Smiling Tia held out her hand. A little affronted that Angela didn't acknowledge her, she lowered her hand, "I"m just trying to be friendly."

Her eyes glittering, Angela turned to stare at the busybody, "Clearly you're not." Stepping a few steps away, Angela crossed her arms and turned her attention back towards the school.

Shaking her head, Tia retorted, "Bitch."

Laughing, Angela shook her head and sang softly, "The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout, down came the rain and washed the spider out. Out came the sun and dried up all the rain and the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again."

Annoyed, Tia shook her head, "What the hell are you singing about?"

Amused, Angela laughed again, "Me."

oooooooooooooooo

Uncovering the machine, Horace waved his hand at the wood chipper. "It's old but it still does the job. The university wanted me to buy a new one so they could write this one off the books, but really I told them it was a waste of money. As long as it's working and doesn't need a lot of repairs then I told them to use the money on something else."

Her eyes scanning the machine, Brennan removed her black light from her purse, leaned over the chute and flashed the light in it. "Booth . . . blood."

Startled, Horace took a step back, "Blood. . . What do you mean blood?"

Turning to look at the maintenance supervisor, Brennan elaborated, "It means that it's possible that Connie Murphy's body was dumped in the hopper of this machine and her body was ground up."

Suddenly turning pale, Horace leaned over and threw up. His upper body heaving, he gasped for breath as he lost the contents of his stomach. Shaking, he placed his hands on his thighs and waited until he knew he was no longer going to be sick.

Watching Horace, Brennan noted the trembling muscles, the sobbing and tears. Turning towards Booth, she advised him, "I'd like the machine brought back to the Jeffersonian." Careful not to look at Horace, Booth studied the surrounding area instead. "Bones, move your light thingy around and see if this is the crime scene."

Amused with Booth's displeasure about Horace's mess, Brennan turned and flashed the light on the floor. The semi-dark room allowing the light to be of use. "I see some blood on the collar of the machine and the hopper too. There is no blood on the floor of this building nor on the walls. I'd say this wasn't the crime scene."

Nodding his head, Booth glanced at Horace as the man breathed heavily, bent over and still gasping. "I'll have a team brought in. We can have them take the chipper over to the Jeffersonian." Seeing Horace straighten up, Booth asked,"Who was the last person to use the chipper?"

His throat raw, Horace cleared his throat, rubbed his face and stepped sideways until he was away from the mess he'd created, "Uh . . . Will Penny has been using it for the last couple of weeks. He's been pruning trees and bushes."

"Where can we find Mr. Penny?" Staring at Horace, Booth scowled when the man answered, "He's in Quebec today. His sister died two days ago and he went to the funeral. . . . Look he couldn't have had anything to do with Connie. He didn't even know her."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth replied, "I need to talk to him. As soon as he gets back I need you to let me know. . . Oh, do not call him and tell him I want to talk to him. Don't talk to him about Connie at all."

Swallowing, Horace replied, "Sure."

oooooooooooooooo

Calling Angela that evening, Brennan explained that she and Booth would be staying in Worcester overnight. "As soon as I talk to you, I need to talk to Hodgins. We're going to need him to come up tomorrow. Since we're going to be staying over night, I'm going to call Dad and ask him to pick up Parker and Christine. I don't expect you . . . "

Angela interrupted her friend and assured her, "No Honey, that's okay. The kids can stay with me. I'll make sure that they're taken care of. There isn't any reason to bother Max about this."

Hesitating, Brennan glanced at Booth, "If you're sure, Angela, then yes, thank you, but please don't feel obligated to keep them if you had plans."

Her hand up and waving her husband over, Angela smiled, "No, it's fine, Bren . . . Here's Jack, tell him what he needs to know."

Taking the phone from Angela, Hodgins inquired, "What's up?" After receiving his instruction, Hodgins responded, "Not a problem, Dr. B. I should be there tomorrow afternoon. I'll let you know when I'm on the road. I'll call Marcus and see if I can ride up with him."

oooooooooooooooo

Patting the wood chipper with a gloved hand, Hodgins smiled, "Wow, this is an old one. They've really taken care of this baby if they're still using it."

Bored, Booth sat on a stack of lumber and watched the techs along with Hodgins collecting evidence from the maintenance shed. "Except for the whole using it to grind up bodies I'm sure they're careful what they put in it."

Guffawing, Hodgins shook his head, "Yeah, probably." Amused, Hodgins removed the collar from the hopper, made sure there was no way the machine could be turned on without his knowledge and placed his hand among the blades and checked for human remains. After searching for quite awhile, he finally shook his head, "They've been using it to grind up trees limbs. So far I'm only seeing signs of blood. I want to take it back to the Jeffersonian and tear it apart."

Marcus Geier standing near him, Booth pointed at the chipper and waved his hand, "Marcus, you heard the man."

Nodding his head, Marcus smiled, "Not a problem, Agent Booth."

Booth stood up and brushed his hands against the legs of his pants, "Okay, the crime scene is yours. I'm going back to the District. Let me know what you find. . . . Bones, you coming or do you want to go back with Hodgins and Marcus?"

Turning, Brennan replied, "I'll come back with you."

Pleased she was coming back with him, Booth waited for her to join him. Once she was ready, Booth led her over to the entrance and then stopped when they were in the courtyard, "Let's call Ange and warn her we're going to be late then we can eat dinner on the way home. It'll be way too late to eat by the time we get home."

After she removed her gloves and threw them in a bio-hazard bag lying near the door, Brennan smiled, "That sounds like a good idea, Booth."

Smirking, Booth quipped, "I get them once in a while."

oooooooooooooooooo

Carrying their sleeping baby into the house, Booth reached past the couch and turned the table lamp on, "I'll take Christine upstairs and then go get ready for bed. We all need to go to bed. It's really late and we're all tired." Turning to Parker, Booth reminded him, "Buddy, why don't you take a bath in the morning? You need to go to bed. We have to be up early tomorrow so you're going to the Jeffersonian with Bones and then someone will take you to school when it's time."

Moving quickly over to the kitchen, Parker replied, "Sure thing, Dad. . . . I'm going to get a drink of water and then go to bed. . . . Don't forget tomorrow is the last day of school then I'm on summer break."

Amused at Parker's reminder, Brennan carried their mail into the living room, "We didn't forget Parker. You've told us that six times in the last three days."

Snickering, Booth carried Christine up the stairs, "Wait until you grow up and you only get two or three weeks of vacation a year."

Certain that would never happen to him, Parker announced, "I'm going to find a job that lets me be off more than that."

Rolling his eyes, Booth muttered, "Good luck with that one, Buddy."

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Reviews would be great. Thank you.


	14. Chapter 14

Thank you for your encouraging reviews. I appreciate them all.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooo

Striding into the bullpen, Booth pointed at Agent Morris Harris, "Hey Harris, Horace Green just called and said that Will Penny is back from Canada. I need you and Lester to go up to Worcester Polytechnic Institute and bring him in. When you get there, call Green and let him know you're there. He said he'll meet you in front of the Admin building." Handing his agent a note card with Green's phone number on it, he explained further, "I've got a meeting I need to get to in ten minutes, so I can't go. Once Penny's here let him stew in lock up for awhile. I want to talk to him tomorrow."

Saluting his boss, Harris stood up, pulled his jacket on and then grabbed his gun and badge, "Lester walked over to the Diner to grab breakfast. I'll go pick him up and then we'll go."

Booth waved the agent away, walked back into his office and sat down behind his desk. Grabbing his phone, he called his partner, "Bones, Harris is going to bring in Will Penny. I'm going to have our suspect sit in lockup when he's brought in and then we can interview him tomorrow."

"_Alright Booth. I have a class in an hour, but I should be done at three. I plan to go home early this afternoon. I'm sure Parker will be very tired by the time school is out this afternoon. He didn't get enough sleep last night. I'd also like to take the opportunity to rest this afternoon."_

"Alright. I'm on my way to a meeting, so I can't eat lunch with you or Parker today."

"_That's fine. I'll see you this evening."_

"I love you."

"_I love you too, Booth."_

Oooooooooooooooo

Approaching the campus driveway, Harris noticed a man that he assumed was Horace Green sitting on a bench near the entrance to the main building. Stopping his truck, Harris stepped out of his truck as Horace rose from his bench and walked rapidly over to the truck. Lester, exiting the passenger side, watched his supervisor hurry around the truck. "Mr. Green?"

Not sure he wanted to be involved, Horace reluctantly nodded his head, "Yeah. I sent Will Penny over to the north part of the campus to mow the lawn. I can take you to where he is if you'd like me to."

Aware that Horace was very nervous, Harris smiled to assure him, "Yeah, that'd be great. You didn't mention we wanted to talk to him did you?"

Shaking his head, Horace started to follow the walk past the building, "I sure didn't. Agent Booth said not to and I didn't." Moving steadily around the building, Horace complained, "I don't know why you want to talk to Will, I told Agent Booth that Will doesn't . . . didn't know Connie. It had to have been a stranger that killed her. No one around here would do something like that and sure as hell not Will. The guy is a . . . . well he's timid. Quiet as a church mouse really."

A mower running in the distance, Lester scanned the area ahead and saw a man on a large mower, "Is that him?"

Stopping, Horace pointed, "Yeah, that's Will. . . Now listen try not to scare the man okay? He's not tough like you or me."

Losing patience, Harris pointed back at the building, "Why don't you go back to the building or wherever you work, Sir. Agent Brown and I plan to talk to Mr. Penny and bring him back to D.C. for questioning."

Disgusted with Harris' refusal to listen to him, Horace turned and walked away, "I'm telling you guys you should be questioning someone else. Will wouldn't hurt a fly."

His eyes on Will Penny, Harris pointed to the left of where Lester was standing, "Walk down that way a few yards and then we'll walk towards Will together."

His hand on his gun, Lester moved several yards away and then made sure to keep his pace even with Harris as they approached their suspect.

The man on the mower, finally noticing Harris and Lester, stopped his mower and then turned it off, "Can I help you?"

His badge presented towards their suspect, Harris called out, "We're with the FBI Mr. Penny. We'd like to talk to you."

Unafraid, Will stood up from the mower and stepped down. Moving slowly towards the agents he stopped five feet from them, "What's wrong? Is something wrong?"

"Mr. Penny, we're investigating the death of Connie Murphy. We'd like you to come with us, if you don't mind." Wary, Harris placed his badge back in his jacket pocket. "We need to talk to you."

Shrugging his shoulders, Will responded, "Sure . . . We can go to the admin building or we can talk here. No skin off of my nose."

His attention on Will's hands, Harris advised him, "Actually we need to take you back to D.C., Sir." Pulling his gun, he continued, "We have a warrant for your arrest, Sir."

His hands resting on his hips, Will asked the agent, "Why me? I didn't work with Ms. Murphy. I only knew her to nod my head to in the parking lot."

"Sir, you need to come with us." Waving his gun, Harris ordered him, "Lower your arms and stand still. We don't want to hurt you."

Grimly, Will reached behind his back, grabbed a knife from a holster in his waistband and threw it at Lester. Harris, reacting, shot their suspect and watched him fall. Glancing at Lester, Harris saw the young agent lying on the ground, "Lester. . . Lester are you alright?" Racing over to the suspect, Harris grabbed the man's wrists and handcuffed him. Checking for a pulse, he found a weak but steady pulse. Standing, Harris pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed 911. Giving the 911 operator instructions, he ended the call.

Racing over to where Lester lay, Harris found his young friend holding his upper thigh, "Shit, why didn't you get out of the way?" Moving Lester's hand, he checked the wound, "It's a slice. He was a piss poor knife thrower."

Furious, raised his hand to look at the blood and then pressed his hand back on his thigh, "Damn it, this is a new pair of pants. This is first time I've worn them. Claire is going to be pissed at me for ruining a new pair of pants."

Shaking his head, Harris patted his shoulder, "Yeah, I'm sure that she's going to be upset about the pants. Just lay there, the ambulance is on the way." Standing, Harris walked back over to where Will lay and knelt down beside him. Checking his pulse, he still found the man to still be alive.

Oooooooooooo

Arriving at the hospital, Booth discovered that Lester was in the ER while Harris waited for him in the lobby. "How's Lester doing?"

Glumly, Harris glanced at the hallway leading towards the ER portion of the hospital and responded, "Twelve stitches. I called his wife, Claire. She's on the way too."

His anger barely contained, Booth barked, "And Will Penny?"

Pointing over his shoulder at the elevators, "They just took him up to surgery. The doctor said he should make it. I have an agent up there right now. They won't allow an agent in the operating room, so he's waiting in the surgical waiting room and will stay in whatever room Penny is put in after surgery."

His eyes boring into his friend, Booth asked, "You and I will be having a personal meeting in a few days about proper procedure when it comes to suspects, Morris."

Nodding his head, Harris responded, "I figured that. I'll have to go before a review board too."

Booth nodded his head in agreement, "Afraid so. You know the drill. Don't worry about it. The man threw a knife and hit Lester, you did the right thing."

Shrugging his shoulders, Harris replied, "I know I did."

Ooooooooooooo

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	15. Chapter 15

Thank you for your reviews. They are the only way I can tell if you are interested in my story.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooo

Standing in ICU, Booth waited for Will Penny's lawyer to arrive. When his suspect has awakened from his drug induced sleep, he'd taken one look at his handcuffs and demanded a lawyer. So far, the man had been read his rights three times and Booth still wasn't sure it was enough.

As soon as Clive Mason arrived, Booth entered the room with him and stood next to Will's bed. "I'm going to read you your rights, Mr. Penny. This will be the fourth time, but we want to make sure you know and understand your rights."

Shaking his head, Will glanced at his lawyer and replied, "I don't need them read to me again. I understand my rights."

His gaze moving to the lawyer, Booth ignored Will's statement and proceeded to read the suspect his rights anyway. Once he was done, Booth placed a hand on the rail of the bed and asked, "Why'd you throw a knife at an FBI Agent, Mr. Penny?"

Interrupting him, Clive shook his head, "My client won't be answering any of your questions, Agent Booth."

Ignoring Mason, Booth asked Will, "Why did you kill Connie Murphy?"

Filled with apathy for his fate, Will finally shrugged his shoulders, "Do you know who Connie's father is?"

Irritated, Clive Mason protested, "I don't want you talking to Agent Booth or anyone else, Mr. Penny."

Laughing, Will stared in disbelief at his lawyer, "You have to be kidding me. I only hired you because I want a witness to hear what I'm going to say. I don't want the FBI covering anything up once I'm gone."

His eyes boring in to Will, Booth demanded, "What do you mean by that? What do you think the FBI is going to cover up?"

Shrugging his shoulders and instantly regretting it, Will turned his gaze fully on Booth, "Connie Murphy is the daughter of Morgan Murphy. That man killed my baby brother a couple of years ago and got away with it. Billy's case turned cold because the cops refused to pursue it. . . Yeah, Billy was running with the wrong crowd and yeah he worked for Murphy, but when a job he was on went south Murphy had Billy killed to keep him quiet. The cops weren't interested in solving Billy's murder because they would have had to go after Morgan Murphy. Well, I couldn't let that go. If he could take my baby brother's life then I could take his daughter from him."

Furious, Mason protested, "For God's sake keep your mouth shut."

Sighing, Will explained to his lawyer, "Get it through your pointy head, I'm not going to live very long. I killed the daughter of Morgan Murphy. I just need you to listen to what's going on and when I'm murdered you can make sure the FBI investigates my death and not sweep it under the rug. I want Murphy to pay for what he did and what he's going to do."

His temper rising, Booth leaned over Will, "Listen you idiot, the FBI doesn't cover up any one's shit, got it and no one is going to murder you in FBI custody."

Closing his eyes, Will replied,"Tell that Fed I'm sorry I threw the knife at him. I meant to miss him. I was trying to get that other Fed to kill me, but the idiot blew it and here I am. Now I have to wait for Murphy to murder me and that wasn't part of my plan. Now that I have to go to trial and all, I plan to use it to my advantage. When Murphy kills me then you'll have to go after him so this worked out for the better." Pleased, Will smiled, "I won't get to see the smug bastard fry but my family can."

"No one is going to murder you, Mr. Penny." Turning his gaze towards Mason, Booth notified him, "The prosecutor is going to want to talk to him. I'm sure you'll be contacted first. In the meantime, your client is under arrest for the brutal murder of Connie Murphy and the attempted murder of a Federal Agent."

"She wasn't very nice you know." Biting his lower lip, Will debated whether or not to say anything else. "What the hell . . . she treated her husband pretty badly. She was having an affair with Richard Billiard. That's why I had to wait to kill her. That man was on her like a leech when she was on campus. She finally dumped his ass a few weeks ago and was looking around for someone else to screw. Her husband didn't have a clue what was going on."

Disgusted with Will, Booth Booth left the room.

Ooooooooooooooo

Holding his daughter in the crook of his left arm, Booth sat down on the couch and used the remote to turn on the television, "I'm telling you Bones, that guy didn't have any remorse for what he'd done. He killed Connie because he thought her father had killed his brother or was responsible for his death. Either way, he was happy he did it."

Curious, Brennan stepped out of the kitchen and over to the couch where she sat down, "What did Mr. Murphy say when you told him Connie's murderer had been found?"

Staring into his daughter's sleeping face, Booth leaned over and kissed her forehead, "He cried. He just sat there and cried. Connie's husband was with him and he cried too. It was pretty sad really. Roy Carter adored his wife. Will Penny said she was having an affair behind Roy's back, but I didn't mention it. Why crush him when he was down? There isn't going to be a trial since Penny confessed, so Roy doesn't have to hear about it."

Brennan took the remote from Booth's hand and started to channel surf. "Do you think Morgan Murphy will have Will Penny murdered?"

"I don't know." Smiling at the way his daughter scrunched her nose as she slept, Booth informed his wife, "We have Will guarded in the hospital and once he's out he'll be in solitary at the prison. I don't know. Murphy has a rep as someone you don't want to cross. He's pretty ruthless and we suspect he was involved in two murders of rivals, but we never could get the evidence we needed to go after him."

Finding the National Geographic Channel, Brennan placed the remote down on the coffee table, "How is Lester doing?"

Staring at penguins marching across his television, Booth remarked, "He's doing okay. His wife is going to take a few days off and take care of him at home. Harris has to go before a review board about the shooting, but he'll be okay." Shaking his head, Booth pointed at the television screen, "Come on, Bones. Penguins? Let's find a game."

Not about to give in, Brennan advised him, "You promised that we would watch what I want to watch tonight since we watched games all week. I want to watch this documentary."

Resigned, Booth stared at his daughter, "Okay . . . okay. Whatever you want, I promised."

Leaning against him, Brennan smiled, "Maybe we'll go to bed early tonight."

His charm smile at full wattage, Booth nudged her and grinned, "Sounds like a good plan to me."

Ooooooooooooo

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